


Forbidden Desires

by PrinceofDarkness15



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Attempted Murder, Ben is 35, Cheating, Cunnilingus, Divorce, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Falling In Love, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Size Kink, bad marriage, ben is unhappy in his marriage, eventual pregnacy, please read the tags!, rey is 30
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 88,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25757590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceofDarkness15/pseuds/PrinceofDarkness15
Summary: PLEASE READ ALL THE TAGS!!! You have been warned upfront!!
Relationships: Phasma/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 101
Kudos: 93





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ ALL THE TAGS!!! You have been warned upfront!!

I kick my way through the piles of mail on the wooden floor, balancing a box in my hands as the door slams shut behind me. The vibrations dislodge two years' worth of dust from the picture rails in the empty hallway, the fine particles bursting into the dim light before me and finding their way to my nose. I sneeze once, then twice, three times---dropping the box at my feet to rub away the tickle.

"Damn it!" I sniff, kicking the box to the side and heading down the hall in search of some tissues.

Entering the lounge, I weave through the haphazard boxes in search of the one labeled BATHROOM. I don't really fancy my chances. Boxes were piled five high surround me, all waiting to be unpacked. I don't even know where to start. 

Circling slowly, I take in my new place--a ground-floor apartment in an old converted Georgian house on a tree-lined street in West London. The window in the lounge is absolutely huge, the ceilings huge, the floors so bloody original. I wander through to the kitchen, grimacing at the stale smell and the layer of thick grime on every surface. 

The place had been empty for years, and it showed. But it's nothing a day with a pair of rubber gloves and bottle of cleaner can't sort out.

Suddenly excited, envisioning how everything will gleam and sparkle after I've attacked it with a bucket load of cleaning detergents, I throw the double oak doors open into the outside courtyard garden to let in some fresh air, then head into the master bedroom.

It's a _massive_ space, with a huge en-suite and an original ornate fireplace. I smile, backing up into the corridor, and enter the second bedroom, though I have other ideas for this space.

I picture my desk beneath the window looking out onto the cute courtyard, and my workbench spanning the back wall scattered with technical drawings and files. It's mine. All mine and I plan to take complete advantage of my new space.

It had taken me over a year to find the perfect apartment in my price range, but I'm finally here. 

I finally have my own place, as well as my own studio to work from. I always told myself that I'd have my own business one and my own by the time I'm thirty. I beat my target by a whole year. And now I have this weekend to make it feel like home.

As if on cue, there's a hanging on the front door. I dash through my apartment-- _my_ apartment--and fling the door open, coming face-to-face with a bottle of Prosecco being thrust at me. 

"Welcome home!" Rose sings, producing two glasses, too.

"Oh my God, you're a bloody saint!" I lung forward, seizing the goods, and open the path to her, welcoming her into my new home. I have the biggest grin on my face.

She beams right back at me and charges in, her long black hair brushing against her shoulders, her dark eyes gleaming with happiness---happiness for me. "First we make a toast, then we clean."

I agree as I close the door behind her, following her into the cluttered lounge.

"Holy shit, Rey!" she gasps, coming to a stop at the doorway when she spies the mountains of boxes. "Where did all this stuff come from?"

I push past her and place the glasses down on a nearby box, starting to peel back the foil from the bottle of fizz. "Most of it is my work stuff," I say, popping the cork and starting to pour.

"How many books and pens does on architect need, I ask you?" she asks, pointing to the opposite side of the lounge, where there's a line of plastic boxes running the length of the wall, all stuffed with various files, textbooks, and stationery. 

"Well, most the books are from my time at the university. Finn's stopping by tomorrow with a van to take the stuff I don't want to the charity shop." I hand Rose a glass and chink it with mine.

"Cheers," she says, sipping as she gazes around. "Where do we start?"

I join her, sipping while looking around at the mess that is my new home. "I need to get my bedroom so I have somewhere to sleep. I'll tackle the rest over the weekend."

"Ooh, your boudoir!" She waggles suggestive eyebrows at me, and I roll her eyes. 

"This is a man-free zone." Knocking back another glug of Prosecco, I make tracks to my bedroom. "Except for Finn," I added, arriving in the huge space, mentally moving my bed, my wardrobes, and my dressing table---which have all been dumped in the middle of the room. I do hope that Rose has stretched in preparation to shift all this hefty stuff.

"Your life is a complete free-man zone."

"I'm just too buys with work," I point out, smiling a satisfied smile. 

I love it. My new business has gone from strength to strength. There's no better feeling than watching the vision in your head come to life, seeing a drawing turn into an actual building. From the age of twelve, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. Dad bought me a rabbit for my birthday, and quite unimpressed with the hunch that he came with, I'd nagged my father into extending it to make better accommodation for my new friend.

He'd laughed and told me to draw what I wanted. So, I did. I've never looked back. After two years acing my A-levels, four years at Cambridge University, and seven years working at a commercial firm while powering through my three architect exams, I'm not where I always planned in being.

Working for myself. Making people's dream projects come to life. I hold up my glass of fizz. "How's your job going, anyway?"

"I work to live, Rey. I don't live to bloody work. I only think of my clients, the pedicures, skin, and nails when I'm in the salon," Rose joins me on the threshold of my new bedroom. "And don't change the subject. It's been one year, two months, and one week since you last got laid."

"Well....that's very accurate of you, Rose Tico."

I remember the night all too well, though his name still seems to escape me. 

"His name was Tom," she prompts, as if reading my mind, turning to me. "You know cute rugby plater dude? Finn's friend of a friend."

Cute rugby player dude's thighs invade my mind. I smile, remembering the night I met Rose's boyfriend's friend of a friend, Tom. "He was quite cute, wasn't he?"

"Very! So why didn't you ever see him again?" 

"I don't know, Rose." I shrug. "There wasn't anything there."

"There were thighs!"

I laugh. "You know what I mean. The sparks. The chemistry."

She scoffs. "Rey, there's never been sparks for you in the whole time that I've known you." 

She's right, of course, like always. When will a man appear and sweep me off my feet? Completely bamboozle me? Make me think of something else other than my career? The only thing that gets my pulse racing it seems is my job.

"I mean have you sworn off men forever?" Rose breaks into my thoughts. "Because let me tell you, Jason has plenty of friends with friends."

"I got bored of it all, Rose. Dating. The stress that comes with dating. The expectations of dating. Nothing ever.....clicked for me," I say dismissively. "Anyway, I'm too in love with my job right and my freedom right now to even consider seeing much less sleep with a man."

Rose laughs, genuinely amused as she wanders into the room, peeking into the en-suite. "Your freedom is being seriously hampered by an eighty-hour working week."

"Ninety," I reply, and she frowns. "I worked ninety hours last week. And I have the freedom to do that."

"But what about all the fun stuff?"

"I've hardly seen you recently," she grumbles.

"I know. It's been a little crazy."

"Yes, that posh couple over in Chelsea have stolen all for you free time. How's it going, by the way?"

"Great," I reply, because it is. But it's one of the toughest projects I've undertaken.

It took months of designs and negotiating to finally come to a compromise with the local authorities to build an ultra-modern, eco-efficient home. The hard work was worth every bit of effort. The cube house on the edge of the common has helped me toward the ridiculous deposit I needed for my new home.

"They moved in last Friday." I made my way to the double doors that lead out into the courtyard garden, picturing the small space bursting with green, a cast-iron table and a couple of chairs outside where I can enjoy my morning coffee. "Isn't this just perfect?"

"It's great," Rose says, following in behind me. "Me and Finn seriously need to think about buying rather than renting."

"Or perhaps building." I waggle a cheeky eyebrow at her. "I happen to know this amazing architect who could help you out on that aspect."

Rose scoffs loudly. "We couldn't afford you even if we wanted to."

I laugh and make my way back inside. "Are you going to help me make my bed or not?"

"I'm coming! I'm coming, hold your knickers!" she singsongs, shutting the doors behind her. 

* * *

Three hours later, after a trip to the shop to restock on Prosecco, we've cleaned, polished, and washed everything in sight, attacking the bathroom, too. The old claw-foot bath is sparkling, and Rose unpacked all of my toiletries and cosmetics while I made up my bed. It already feels like a home. I peek in my mirror as I pass, seeing my dark hair is a knotted mess atop my head.

I yank the hair-tie and let it tumble down over my shoulders, combing my finger's through to rid it of the knots. I blink my pale green eyes a few times, something irritating me, as I lean into the mirror to remove a few specks of dust from my lashes. 

"Don't forget we're going out next Saturday," Rose reminds me, tying a black sac as she emerges from the bathroom. "Finn's on a work thing, Jannah is escaping Alex as he's got his kid that night, and Poe is....well, you know him, he's always free. So I want no excuses that you have to work."

I wander over to my bed and plump my pillows, pulling back the duvet, ready to fall it once Rose has left. "No excuses," I confirm.

"Great!" She drops the black duvet sack with the pile of others by the door, brushing off her hands. "And what about your housewarming? We need to christen this place."

"It's the Saturday after. I've invited a few new clients, too."

"Does that mean no orgy?"

I laugh at her response. _How typical of you, Rose Tico, to take something and turn it into a sexual preference._ "No orgy, I'm afraid, though I can see it dampens your spirit."

"Oh, okay. I'll take care of the snacks. You take care of the cocktails." 

"Deal."

She squeals and throws her arms around me, squeezing me tightly. "It's perfect, Rey. You've really worked hard for it."

"Thanks." I return her hug, breathing in the scent of the millions of candles we've lit. 

"How long have you given yourself off work?" she asks me, releasing me and collecting her bag off from the door.

"Just the weekend."

"Wow, you're pushing the boat out, aren't you?"

I ignore the dry sarcasm in her voice. This was typical behavior for Rose Tico---dry sarcasm, it was in her blood. "I have to get some drawings finalized for my client's new art gallery. No rest fort he wicked as the say."

"And clearly no play, either," Rose remarks, grinning a little as she pulls her mobile from her bag. "Great," she mumble, looking down at the screen. "That's just bloody great!"

"What? What's wrong?"

She shoves it back in her bag and forces a smile as she turns to look over at me. "Finn's working late again, lovely. He was supposed to be picking me up"---she glances down at her watch---"like, right about now."

"You can stay here, if you like. I don't mind."

"Nah, I'll just grab the Tube and go back to the apartment and wait for him to come home. You go on and get to bed."

She leaves me with a kiss and an order to sleep well. I've no doubt that I will. In my brand-new bed, will my brand-new sheets and my brand-new duvet, I'm fast asleep before my bed hits the brand-new pillow. 

* * *

I wake the next morning to hard, relentless banging on my front door. Sitting up, I spend a few disorientated moments blinking sleepily as I look around my unfamiliar surroundings. _Bang! Bang! Bang!_ The my phone starts screeching from under my pillow followed by more loud banging, backed up by someone shouting my name.

My palms come up to my face and scrub at my cheeks before I feel for my phone and pull it from under the pillows. 

Poe's name flashes up at me. Then I register the time. "Oh, shit!" I scramble from under my covers, stumbling on my way out of my bedroom.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Okay, Okay!" I yelled, leaping over a box and crashing into the door. Swinging it open, I come face-to-face with a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, Poe Dameron. "Seriously!" I yelled, my head drumming with bangs, rings, and shouts.

"Morning, there treacle!" He lands a kiss on my cheek and pushes his way past me, oohing and swooning as he starts to explore my new abode. "Nice place!"

I shut the front door and follow in him, frowning at the manbun he's sporting. "What the hell happened to your hair" I ask, watching as he inspects every nook and cranny.

"You like?" he asks, reaching behind and feeling at the dark blonde bundle. "It's really starting to get in my way when I'm a work." He kicks a box out of the way and takes a slurp of his Starbucks coffee as he hands me one.

I accept gratefully and head for my bedroom. He's in his work uniform, namely shorts and a T-short. He's a personal trainer. A very popular personal trainer. His watching lists consists of women. All women.

"So your working today?" I ask, setting my office on my bedside table. 

Finn follows me in and plonks himself on the edge of my bed. "Two sessions this afternoon." He squeezes my thigh as I pass him, and I yelp. "When are you gonna let me at you, Rey?"

"Never!" I laugh. "I'd rather shove hot pokers into my eyeballs."

"A few squats will do you some good."

I scoff at his suggestion and pull on some jeans. "You have plenty of squatting arses to admire without torturing mine."

He grins wickedly at me. "Speaking of which, I just took on a few client myself."

I fasten my jeans. "Married?" I ask, pulling off my tank top and throwing a U2 T-shirt over my head. 

"Nope." He grins. "You know I limit married clients to five at any one given time. That's an hour a day that I have to be a professional. Five whole hours a week!"

I laugh out loud. The man is an outrageous flirt, but he's also one of the best PTs in London. Women are always lining up to be bent, stretched, and manipulated into position by my oldest friend. For more reasons than achieving physical fitness. "That must be awfully exhausting for you."

"It is when they're tempting you constantly through each session. An innocent brush my thigh here, an arse thrust in my face there."

"If it's that challenging to keep your mind and eyes from wandering, you should just take on single women. Or men."

"I need a balance of clients. Besides, the married ones try even harder," he says, and my eyebrows jump up. Poe rolls his eyes. "In training," he clarifies.

"So you've never been tempted?"

"Never!" He shakes his head furiously. "I love my legs too much to risk an angry husband breaking then, thanks."

Dragging my dark hair into a high-ponytail, I chuckle and slip on my flip-flops. I've known for centuries. We grew up together. Played mummies and daddies together. Romped naked in the paddling pool together. He even hammered a few nails into the rabbit hutch extension when we were twelve years old. Our parents were, and still are, the best of friends. 

"So how was your first night?" he asks, patting down my bedcovers. 

"I honestly don't think I've ever slept for so long." It's a good sign. "Come on. Let's get rid of this shit so that I can start figuring out where everything's going to go."

We head into the lounge and I start slapping yellow Post-it notes on everything that I don't want to keep while Finn follows me around, placing it all to one side of the room. "Hey, I'll have that." Finn swipes the Post-it off a miniature set of drawers that used to sit on my dressing in my old bedroom. "I need somewhere to put my hair-ties."

I laugh and carry on slapping Post-its on what needs to go. "Your man-bun looks super cute," I say as Poe fondles his new friend with with a smile. 

Truth be told, Poe could shave his hair off and look cute. The man is just cute fully stop. His light brown eyes are constantly laughing and his jaw is constantly peppered with stubble. He's hot, but he's just Poe to me.

"Thanks." He bats his lashes.

"Hey, we're going out next Saturday for drinks. You coming?"

"Of course," he replies quickly. "Rose and Jannah coming?" He waggles a suggestive eyebrow. 

"Don't even dare. Both know you're a tart." He just can't help himself. Me, Jannah, and Rose are the only women in London who are immune to Poe's charm. 

"Ouch, bitch," he sniggers, getting me in a headlock.

"Get off of me, you wart!" I wrestle pit of his hold and straighten myself out, batting him away when he starts dancing around me, fists held up in front of his face. 

"Yoo-hoo!" My mother's voice sails into the room, followed by the sound of her heels clicking on the wooden floor. I give Poe a quick jab in the bicep, and he yelps playfully. I followed the echo of my Mum's call until I find her shimmying past the boxes lining the corridor, being careful not to catch her pleated skirt on any of them. "Oh, just look at the high ceilings!" she coons. "And the picture rails!"

I rest my shoulder on the door frame and watch with a smile as she shuffles toward me. Poe joins me, his chest meeting my back.

"Poe!" she shrieks, picking up her pace to make it to us. "Give me hug!" She virtually knocks me off my feet to get her hands on him. "Let me see you, you handsome chops!" She squeezes his jaw fiercely, and I cannot help but laugh. "Where on earth have you been? I haven't seen you in weeks!"

"Working hard, Evelyn."

Mum just smiles at him, releasing his face. "When are going to do make an honest women of my Rey?"

Poe looks across at me, just as I roll my eyes. "As soon as she'll have me." He grins wickedly, knowing exactly what he's doing, as he always does when my mother goes off a tangent about our so called "friendship". Poe doesn't want to date me. He's too busy being a complete man-slut, and I'm too busy building my career. 

Our relationship is purely platonic--something we're both completely happy about. There's never been anything more than friendship between us. No sparks. No chemistry. Nothing.

I often wonder whether any man will ever stir anything within me, because if Poe Dameron hasn't, then it's very possible that no man ever will.

He has women falling at his feet with just a hint of his disarming smile. Me? I feel nothing. I think I'm abnormal or something. Mum tucks her bag neatly in the crook of her arm and produces a carrier bag loaded with cleaning supplies. "I've come to help!"

"Dressed in that?" I ask, taking in her cream blouse, pleated skirt, and heeled shoes. 

"Always look your best, dear." She sniffs. "Your father will be here soon with his toolbox. Now, where do we start?"

"Well, I'm out of here," Poe says, grabbing a box with a yellow Post-it sticker on it before dropping a peck on my mother's cheek and marching out of my door, hands full.

He blows me a kiss as he passes. I grin and turn to find my mother armored up with some yellow rubber gloves and a bottle of cleaner in her hands. I simply cannot believe she's really going to clean wearing those ridiculous shoes. I'm debating right then and there to have a bloody ambulance on standby in case I hear her tumbling down the stairwell.

"Now, let's get scrubbing," she sings excitedly. 


	2. Chapter 2

My nails are shot to bits----the result of a week's worth of scrubbing and manual labor in between keeping on top of my clients, my e-mails, and my designs. But my new apartment is now a _sparkly_ new apartment. Everything has its own home and every room as been newly repainted. All of my reference books have been loaded onto the shelves in my studio, my computer and printer set up, and my desk placed in the window, just where I had envisioned it when I first moved in.

I bloody love it. And now I am _more_ that ready for a night out on the town with the girls to finally have a chance to let my hair down. My iPod is cranked out to the max and I'm dancing around my bedroom in my towel, the windows flung open, while I sing at the top of my lungs to Harry Styles "Watermelon Sugar" and sip on a glass of desert wine.

After making my eyes all smoky and smudged, slipping on a little black dress and the highest black heel Stiletto's that I own, and pinning my hair into a mess of a low bun, I grab my purse and head for the door, hearing Rose knocking as I'm on my way.

"Nice, Johnson. _Very_ nice." She nods approvingly when I answer, though she looks a little vacant. 

"Are you okay, Rose? You seem a little, I don't know.....off." I ask, stepping outside onto the front porch with her.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She looks effortlessly gorgeous, her long black hair wavy today, and her dark eyes dramatic with very heavy eyeliner. Her bright pink shift dress and leather biker jacket are perfectly edgy and perfectly Rose. 

"You've made quite an effort, too, I see," I observe as I link my arms with her and we start down the path together.

"I just threw something on," she says, waving off my complement. "Jannah's meeting us there. And whatever you do, tell her you love her hair."

"Why, what did she do?" I look at Rose in horror. Jannah's hair is her pride and joy. Thick, rich in color, glossy and down to her bum, it's groomed better than the Queen of England's corgis, I swear it is.

"Her boyfriend's baby got his bubble gum stuck in it this afternoon."

"Oh shit," I breathe, seeing Jannah's face clear as day in my mind's eyes. Very, _very_ angry. 

She met the man of her dreams, but the man of her dreams comes with an added extra: a bouncing six year old bot who is a little bit of a handful at times. No, scrap that last bit. He's a lot of a handful. Jannah's not exactly maternal.

"How much?" I wince waiting for it, and then I gasp when Rose's cutting gesture saws at her shoulders. "Oh no." 

"And while we're talking about awful things, I've split up with Finn."

I stagger to a complete stop. "What? Why?"

She shakes her head, tears threatening. "I really don't want to talk about it tonight."

I snap my mouth shut quickly and, though it pains me, I refrain from pressing the issue any further. If Rose wants to tell me, she will. "Okay," She definitely needs a girls' night out, and I'm more than happy to provide. "Wait. Does Jannah know about this?"

She nods and quickly wipes under her eyes. "Look, let's just have fun tonight, please. I don't want any tears----oh _my_ part."

"Done." I grab a hold of her arm and we march on, determined to distract her for tonight, my mind is racing with what could have happened between them.

Rose and Finn had been together since, well, forever. Though, I had to admit, his job sometimes did get the best of him and in the middle of his relationship with Rose at times. _No, Rey, don't judge, it's not your place,_ I told myself as we make our way to the street to call for a cab.

* * *

It's a challenge, but I manage not to choice when I clap my eyes on Jannah's dramatic, completely unplanned transformation. Her long locks are no more, and the scowl on her face tells me that she hasn't come to terms with it yet. 

"Go on, tell her she looks great," Rose mumbles under her breath as we head over towards her. 

"It looks great!" I shriek, resting my bum on one of the tall stools. Everyone around me falls silent, Rose just rolls her eyes, and Jannah growls at me. "What?" I ask, shrinking.

"I look about fifty bloody years old." Jannah mutters.

"Oh please, no you don't," Rose and I sing in unison, so fucking over the top. She really does look older. Perhaps not quite fifty, but definitely over than her thirty years.

"Well, I love it!" I declare, happy that I sound sincere enough, prompting Jannah's hands to go up tp her hair and feel the lack of length. 

"Really? You do?" she asks, looking for reassurance. 

"Yes, it makes you look....more sophisticated." 

She smiles, grateful, and Rose knocks my arm as she passes me, her way of congratulating me on a good job well done. "I'm getting us some drinks," she declares. "Who wants what?"

"Wine!" Jannah and I chant. 

Rose heads for the bar, and I take the opportunity to interrogate Jannah. "So what's happened with Rose and Finn?" I ask, leaning forward over the table. "Why did they break up?"

"I honestly don't know." She shrugs nonchalantly, ever the compassionate type. "She refuses to talk about it."

"Yeah, but I thought they were solid."

"Yeah, me too. Apparently not, eh?"

"You sound so concerned about it." I give her a rather disappointed look, and she just shrugs again.

Jannah's not exactly the emotional type. She's a loss adjuster for a huge insurance firm. A real hardball, and she struggles to separate that from her personal life. Most men are intimidated by her. Most women, too, actually. Tall, leggy, and a bit of a brick wall---no emotion whatsoever. 

"My hair was massacred," she snipes. "so forgive me, if I'm a bit moody."

Our conversation us cut short---not that it was really going anywhere---when Rose slides a tray on the table, loaded with not only wine, but a variety of different shots, too. I look over at Jannah, who nods her understanding. Rose is on a mission to total drunkenness. We both accept the shots she hands us and throw them back as ordered.

Then I ponder who of my friends is in the most turmoil here, therefore needing my attention. You'd think this would be an easy decision, but Jannah was probably as much in love with her hair as I thought Rose was with Finn. 

I flick my eyes between them: both distracted. Jannah is still stroking her new hairdo, and Rose's now daydreaming into her wineglass. It's no good. I can't hold back anymore.

"What happened between you and Finn?" I ask Rose, knocking her knee.

She immediately snaps out of her trance and looks at me, her usually bright eyes dulling. Then they well up, her bottom lip trembling. "He cheated on me!" she wails, bursting into tears. "And it's not the first time he's done it, either!"

"Oh my God!" I cry, jumping up and down from my stool and taking her in a hug. She shakes and blubbers all over me, finally losing the ability to hold it together. "Why didn't you say anything to me?"

"When it happened before, I forgave him," Rose sniffs. "And I thought it would be a one-off, and I knew how you'd all react. I didn't want you to think bad of him, and I didn't want you to think I'm a complete walkover." 

I look across Rose's head at Jannah, giving her a rather guilty look. She returns it, knowing that's exactly what we would have done. _The bloody bastard_ , I mouth, and she nods, her lip curling. Rose howls some more, making our tangle of limbs vibrate.

"It's been going on for months," she sobs. "Some tart in the office. He's been working late more and more, and I found the text messages on his phone."

Me and Jannah scowl at each other, but neither of us say anything, probably because we have no idea what to say, really, leaving Rose to go on and dish the sordid details. We can tell she's been keeping it bottled up by the way she goes on in a frantic tizzy.

"She's twenty-one!" she howls into my chest. "Twenty-fucking-one!"

 _Ouch!_ Jannah's face is a picture of absolute horror, and I expect that mine is, too. "Let's drink," I suggest, now willing to get plastered on Rose's behalf.

* * *

One hour later.....or it could be two---I'm not sure---we are all pretty tipsy, but no one is crying so our inebriated states can only be a good thing. Poe has arrived, and doesn't Rose know it. He looks gorgeous, his man-bun perfect as always. She's practically all over him like a rash, and it's not a problem for Poe.

Though he does keep flicking wary eyes at me, waiting for the warning. It won't come. Not tonight, anyways. Besides, Rose needs a good distracting and I'm too tipsy at this point to even care. A bit of harmless flirting won't hurt.

Polishing off yet another glass of wine, I look around for Jannah. I find her on the dance floor, all by herself, swaying to a bit of Selena Gomez. A few drinks inside her and she belongs to any dance floor, no matter where. I shimmy over to the bar to get more shots, since we're clearly not drunk enough. 

Ordering four Slippery Butter Nipples with a grin, I bob to the music while I wait for the barman to get our drinks. I slip him a twenty. "Do you have a tray by any chance?" I ask him.

"We're all out, love," he calls as he walks away with my money.

I look down at the four shot glasses, pondering on what to do. There's a simple solution, but I'm on my way to total drunkenness and it's not coming to me, so I start to negotiate the tiny glasses between my fingers, confident I can manage them all in one go and save me an extra trip to our table.....which is twenty feet away. 

"Damn," I mutter, knocking one and spilling the stickiness all over my hand. I start to lick at my lingers, lapping up the creamy concoction, set on minimal waste. Then I take the remainder of the shot and knock it back, reducing my carry to the three glasses. Far more manageable.

If you're totally sober. Which I'm not. I accept my change when the barman slides it across the counter to me. "Thanks," I call, starting to collect the three remaining glasses in my hands. Another one goes over, and once again, I lick the mess from my hand.

"You're not doing very well there, are you?"

The amused voice pulls me around, my lapping tongue around my fingers slowing to a completely standstill, my eyes widening at the sight of the man standing next to me at the bar. Holy....shit. I'm not often rendered speechless. Never, in fact. Now I'm making up for it, and I can't figure out if it's too much alcohol or the awe that I'm in.

He's _so_ fucking hot! I take in evert teeny-tiny piece of him, from his shoes---which, it should be noted, are very stylish tan Jeffery West brogues---to the very top of his beautiful head. I say _beautiful._ I'm not sure it's complimentary enough.

Classically handsome, maybe? Jaw-dropping? Stunning? Nothing seems adequate. He has some scruff. Yummy scruff that I guess is a result of not shaving for at least five days and his soft brown eyes are ridiculously twinkly. Like little stars are popping in their depths. His hair is long, close to his head at the sides and the shiniest black. Just long enough to hold on to.....

I gulp down my wonder. The man can dress. Casual. Easy. A lovely fitted shirt, collar open, sleeves rolled up, loose and hanging out of his fitted Armani jeans. Did I mention that he has good shoes?

"You need a hand there?" he asks, eyeing me with.....what is that?

A hand? Where would I put that hand? I tilt my head in silent contemplation, now staring at his hands. Big, capable hands, one wrapped around a bottle of beer. 

Then my eyes are lifting, following that bottle until it reaches his lips. His mouth opens. I catch sight of a silver of his tongue, and his lips wrap around the bottle, his head tipping back. The throat. Holy shit, the throat. The swallow. The quiet gasp.

The colossal blast that’s just happened in my knickers. I flinch and immediately cross my legs. I have no fucking clue what’s going on inside me, but it’s snapped me out of my ridiculous inertness. 

“Shot!” I blurt, making a grab for the glasses. “Hey, I ordered four, sir,” I call to the waiter, scowling at me from across the bar. 

The handsome man next to me starts laughing, a deep, sexy low rumble. More blasts—-that feel more like nuclear bombs. _Oh God....stop it! Be quiet down there!_

“Just how drunk are you?” he asks, and I look at him to see him watching me very closely. 

“I’m perfectly sober, thank you very much,” I say, snatching my eyes away from him quickly before I even give him the opportunity to embarrass me again. “I ordered four.” 

“And you’ve split two,” he points out. I look down and see the two empty shot glasses...and it comes back to me. How long was I daydreaming just now? Or admiring? Or worse...drooling? 

“Oh.”

“Not drunk, eh?” 

I keep my eyes on the bar. They clearly can’t be trusted right now. “Like I said, I’m perfectly sober.” I gather up the remaining glasses and make to turn, being sure to maintain my stability. Not that I’m as stubborn as an Ox or anything. I’m not drunk. 

“Do you care to prove it?” he asks, pulling me to a stop.

A challenge? I risk a peek at him out of the corner of my eye and find the most gorgeous smile on his already gorgeous face. Where the hell did he come from? Prove it?

“How?” I ask, my curiosity suddenly getting the better of me. 

“Take the remaining shots to your friends.” He nods past me, and I look over to see my friends all now gathered around the tall table, Poe’s arms flying in the air dramatically, the girls all laughing.

How long has he been here anyway? There’s no way he could have slipped under any of the girls Hot-Man Radar—that is—unless he’s just that clever. No doubt my friends would have been able to spot him less than a mile a way with his dashing good looks. 

“Then come back to see me, if you want that is,” he adds quietly. 

_If I want?_ The real question here is do I _want_ to? I have yet another quick peek up at him. He’s still smiling. It’s a dangerous smile. Very dangerous. He’s far too handsome to be completely harmless. I slink off, shamelessly adopting a mild sway of my ass as I go, twisting the urge to see if he’s watching me. He is watching me. I just know it, and it’s got me all hot and bothered too. 

Rose is on me like a pounding tiger when I arrive back at the table. “Now who is God’s name is that gorgeous man sitting over there at the bar?” she asks, eyes wide with excitement as she takes another shot. 

“I don’t know,” I reply, downing the last shot myself instead of giving it up to any one of my friends, all the while feeling the magnetic pull of the man behind me, my body tightening with the strain it’s taking for me not to turn and seek him out again. 

“Rey, darling dearest, look I know that you’re pretty immune to most men, but this is taking the piss. He’s watching you.” 

Immune? Did she really just say immune? I’m not sure that I’d say that. I’ve just never felt _anything_ close to special. So why the hell am I tingling all over like a bloody trembling fool? I don’t feel very immune right now. 

“He’s human, Rose. He’s _allowed_ to watch.” 

She gapes at me. "Well, if you won't go over there and talk to him, then I will, since I'm single now." Pushing past me, she slaps a smile on her face and heads towards the bar, and _my_ man.

I have no earthly idea what comes over me, but the next moment my hand has shot out and I've seized Rose's wrist, yanking her to a stop. I squeeze my eyes shut, annoyed with myself with what I'm about to say next. "Just hold up one minute." I breathe in deeply and turn to her. "A rebound fuck with a stranger isn't the forward here, Rose."

She'd holding back a grin that will probably spilt her face if it escapes. She has me. For the first time---probably _ever_ \---a man has caught my full attention. I honestly shouldn't read too much into it. I expect this particular man has caught every woman's attention, the unholy, good-looking son of a bitch. Leaning into me, Rose pushes her mouth to my ear, just as my eyes fall onto him again. He's still watching me. 

Intently, almost challengingly. "He looks like a hard fucker," Rose whispers, giggling as she breaks away, giving me a coy look. "Listen, Rey, do womankind a favor and _please_ get laid....tonight." She then nods past me. "And _by_ him."

* * *

"No, Rose, I'm just going to talk to him, and _nothing_ else." I protest, leaving my friend behind and giving in to the pull luring me back over to him. 

I drink in air and start a steady pace toward him, dropping my bottom lip from between my teeth when I realize that I'm biting it. He maintains a serious face, watching me as he leans on the bar casually. "I do believe I saw a slight stagger there," he says, raising his eyebrows slightly. 

He's just too fucking handsome for his own good. And, undoubtedly, _my_ good, too. "Sober," I mouth, leaning next to him at the bar.

Keeping his eyes on mine, he calls to the barman. "Two tequila's please." 

"Tequila, huh?" I muse, looking over my shoulder when the salt and lemon land behind me. "Is that my challenge?"

"Crying off?" he goads, reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out some crumpled notes.

"Never," I scoff, turning back to the bar. I don't know what his game here is, but I definitely want to play. With him. "You're asking me to prove that I'm sober by doing a shot?" I narrow my eyes on him, teasing. "Or is your plan to get me drunk and taken advantage of me?"

He smiles to himself as he pays the barman. "You don't look like the kind of woman who could possibly be taken advantage of."

"What kind of woman do I look like, then?" I challenge him quietly.

He turns into me, watching me in silence for a few moments before replying, "I don't know, but I think I'd really like to find out."

I hold his gaze for a few seconds, no retort coming to me. I think I want him to find out, too, just as much as I want to find out what kind of man _he_ is. My eyes drop from his sparkling caramel-colored eyes, down to his tall, lean frame to his feet. Oh....fuck.....

"Let's play," he says, moving in closer and pulling one of the glasses forward.

I don't mean to, but I yank my arm away abruptly when he brushes against me, startled by the tiny stabs of pleasure that pitter-patter all over my skin. The fleeting touch tells me he would feel as good as he looks, and---give me strength---he smells divine, all manly and earthly and fucking edible. The sudden lapse in movement and talking from both of us becomes slightly awkward. I can feel him looking down at me.

"So? What do I have to do?" I ask again quietly, almost on a breathy gasp.

He clears his throat. "You're not drunk?"

"Not event he slightest bit, sir." I raise my nose in the air.

"Good. Then you'll smash this challenge the first time round." He places a finger in the brim of one of the shot glasses. "Brace your palms on the edge of the bar," he orders, firmly but softly. I look at him, finding a serious face in it's place. "Go on." 

Frowning, I place my hands on the edge of the bar. "Okay? Now what?"

He takes my hips. He takes my fucking hips! I freeze from top to toe and swallow hard, waiting. My insides are quickly furling, my mind in complete chaos. "Move back a bit," he says, pulling at them a little until I take a step back.

Oh, Jesus. I'm on fire. I have a strange man bending me over a bar in public, and me, Rey I'm-immune-to-men Johnson, isn't fighting him off one bit. It's like he has be under his spell. What gives? I dare not look behind me. I'm not stupid enough to think that Rose isn't currently watching a man manipulate my body to where he wants it. 

"You feel tense," he observes, releasing me and moving back to my side again.

I don't deny it; neither do I confirm it. His big hands felt so good resting on my hips, so much that I have to resist not to claiming them and putting them back where they were.

"What now?" I ask, evidentially struggling for air, damn me.

"Now." He picks up his beer and grins. "I get to gloat that I had you bent over a bar within five minutes of meeting you." He takes a swig, still grinning, and I hear the roar of a man down the bar laughing his head off.

Oh, the fucker! Part of me has admiration. Another part of me wants to slap him stupid; I don't care how beautiful he is. And another part of me wants to rip his clothes from his body and ravish the sly bastard for embarrassing me like this. I cannot _believe_ that I fell for it! How many women has he played like fiddle? I drop my head, shaking it to myself.

I knew that smile was dangerous. A man who can bend a woman to his will so easily and so soon couldn’t be anything less than lethal. And the fact that he got me with his wicked game means hats off to him. I can’t possible take that away from him, and since I’m lacking in the the dignity department right now, I decide not to slap him silly. Nor will I chuck a drink over his head, or fire a load of verbal abuse at him. I’ll do what he least expects.  
  
I push myself up and turn to face him, unable to stop myself from smiling at his half grin. Holding his gaze, I slowly lick the back of my hand, blindly take the salt off the bar, sprinkle a bit, and take one of the shots of tequila. But as I’m taking my hand to my mouth, he seizes my wrist and takes the shot from my other hand. 

My heartbeat accelerates, our eyes glued to each other as he moves into me and slowly brings my hand to his mouth. I watch, gripped, transfixed and in awe, as he lazily licks up the salt from the back of my hand, eyes on mine, and then knocks down his own tequila shot. 

_Just kill me now, for I will certainly die a very happy women!_ His tongue on my skin. His eyes boring into mine. His firm hold on my wrist. I must look like a statue—unable to talk, move, or think clearly.


	3. Chapter 3

“There’s one more tequila shot left,” he says, cocking his head toward the bar but keeping me completely in his sights. “And it’s yours.” 

Oh good lord. My heart is speeding up by the second as I watch him lick the back of his hand and sprinkle some salt. Then he offers it to me. I stare at his hand, and then slowly look up at him. I could get lost in those beautiful caramelized eyes of his.

“I promise, I taste good,” he whispers. 

Holy shit....

I've no doubt. None at all. It takes everything in me and more to take his hand and bring it to my mouth, and when my tongue slips free, I close my eyes and brace myself. I taste no salt. I taste _him._ And it might well be the most intoxicating taste that I've ever experienced. 

I swallow, keeping hold of his hand while I take the tequila and throw it back, not even wincing as it burns its way down my throat.

He nods approvingly at me. "I told you," he murmurs, pulling his hand away. 

I fight my way back to life, looking away from him before I self-combust. "Well, it was nice playing with you," I breathe, turning away. I realize that I _need_ the ladies. Quickly.

"Whoa, hold on!" He lips his hand around my wrist and stills me. My whole body locks up again. After being clued in to his pathetic man-game of getting me bent over the bar, all bodily reactions to him should have have been halted in their annoying tracks.

Then he licked me. And I licked him. The tingles engulfing me are so fierce I'm having to refrain from brushing them off.

"Don't go just yet," he says gently. 

I look up at him, cocking my head, trying to wrestle some sensibility through my cloud of lust. I haven't been with a man in a long, long while. About one year, two months, and one week ago, to be precise. Finn's friend of a friend. 

"And just what exactly are you planning on doing with me if I choose to stay?" I ask, taking a quick scan of his hand in search of a ring, just to be sure. No ring. How a woman hasn't staked some sort of claim on him yet is beyond me.

"I plan on talking to you a bit longer," he says softly, watching me with a hint of curiosity. 

"As opposed to what? Licking me?"

"What's the matter? You didn't like my game?" he asks evenly, seriously, something lingering behind his eyes. Something tempting. Something that makes me a little....cautious. And a lot, _hot._

His grasp, still circling my wrist, gives me a moment's pause. The heat of our combined skin isn't to be ignored. I'm intrigued to be sure by him, if only because he's captured my attention and actually managed to keep it, even after his sly little stunt. Talk. He just wants to talk. I can do that. I gently pull my arm away and he releases me slowly, never removing his eyes from mine.

Then he blindly pulls a bar stool forward, indicating for me to take a seat. "Do you want another drink? Or have you had enough?"

I rest my bum on the stool and flick him a tired look, but I really don't think that I should be drinking anymore. Especially not now, when I should probably keep my wits about me.

"I'll just have a water, please."

He then signals the barman over, ordering my water and another beer for himself. I look across to my friends, and find none of them looking this way. Except Poe. He cocks his head in question, and I nod my reassurance. I'm fine. Totally fine.

The man with no name lowers to a stool before me, one foot resting on the floor, the other on a footrest, his elbow propped on the bar. His shirt crinkles around his midriff a little. It looks like there could be abs beneath that crisp white material. And his bent arm is hinting some pretty solid biceps, too.

"So what's your name?" he asks, pulling my eyes back up to his face. 

He still looks serious, a distinct contrast from the cocky grin that was fixed to his face when I first clapped eyes on him.

"Rey," I answer. "What's yours?"

"Ben. Ben Solo and I'm American by the way," he smiles, once again teasing me with that beautiful sly grin of his.

I roll my eyes at this and quickly add, "Of course, I don't know whether if it was your overall charming personality that gave it away or your midwestern accent, though, I'm sure it was the latter." 

He presents me his hand, still watching me as I decided on whether I should touch him again. It's definitely not a good idea. If anything, I really should be retreating, moving away, possibly even leaving right this minute. There were intentions in his serious eyes that I can perfectly; intentions that should frighten me---so why I reach forward and place my hand gently in his his beyond ability to analyze right now.

I'm rapt. Enthralled. It's a revelation, and I quite like it. As soon contact is made, skin to skin, he seizes my hand quickly, shocking me. My eyes fly up to his, expecting to find a cheeky grin, but he's still looking at me seriously. 

"Gotcha," he murmurs, squeezing his big palm around mine. I loose my breath. My heart gallops. My skin heats up. Holy shut, he certainly has.

He starts to slowly shake my hand, up and down, taking a long time about it, too. I swallow repeatedly, my throat as dry as a bone as he controls my movements. _Gotcha?_

"Well, then, Ben Solo from the United States of America, are you here on business or pleasure?" I ask.

"What if I said it was both? What would you say?" he asks, smiling warmly at me. 

"I would say that you are a man of many talents. You're not the first American to come to our shoes nor do I feel like you will be the last, either. As long as you are enjoying yourself here---I suppose my thoughts and opinions don't really matter all that much."

His lips slowly curve, as if he knows my thoughts, and I'm faced with that sparkly-eyed smile of his again. "Just so you know, I licked it, so it's mine," he says around his smile.

His declaration has me shaking my head in wonder as he lowers my held hand to my bare leg, advantage of his position and dragging his fingers down my thigh as he pulls away. I jerk on my stool and immediately make a grab for my water. 

"So....do you lick many women you meet?" I ask, and immediately kick myself for it. That's totally none of my business, and I honestly don't want to know his answer.

His face is suddenly serious. "Licking random women in bars isn't usually my thing."

"Well, then what about bending them over bars so you can gloat?"

A mild smile ghosts his lips, as if he's reading my thoughts. "I honestly don't know what came over me," he admits on a mild laugh, brining his hand to his jaw and stroking over his bristle. I'm glad, because I don't know what came over me, either. "So, what do you do for a living, Rey?"

"I'm an architect," I answer swiftly. _Talk. Just talk, Rey._ "Mainly domestic projects, but I'm slowly moving my business into the commercial sector." 

"Wow, you have your own firm?" he asks, and I nod. "That's quite impressive for some only in her...." Ben fades off, cocking his head in question.

I smile at his cute ploy to extract my exact age. "I'm twenty-six." 

"Wow, now that's really impressive. Congratulations. I like seeing people succeed." 

"Thank you."

"So are you mar---"

"No." I laugh.

"Very well. Taken?"

I'm not so quick to answer this time. I don't know why. Probably because my answer will open the path to....what? A relationship with _him?_

"No?" There's relief in his eyes. Yeah, there's definitely relief there. "So you're a good-time girl?" he asks, a suggestive edge to his tone.

"Well, I don't usually let strange me bend me over bars and lick me, if that's what you're getting at."

"I'm honored to be the first," Ben smiles, satisfied. "So what do you usually do for fun? I mean, when I'm not around to bend and lick you, that is."

I match his smile and take another sip of water to moisten my increasingly dry mouth. "I work extremely hard. I have good friends. And I have my good times with them."

"Through choice or because of a bad personal experience?"

"We're getting a bit personal with all this now, aren't we?" I cock him a questioning look, and he smiles on a shrug. It's more than likely I'll never see him again after tonight, what with him being American and all. It's not like he lives here or anything. Perhaps just visiting, or on business as we've discussed. 

"I'm just trying to figure you out, is all."

His jean-clad knee brushes against mine, and I whip my leg away on a skip of my pathetic beating heart. He won't need to figure out anything. I'm more than happy to tell him my side of the story.

"I have no interest in men right now." I don't know why, but I find myself biting my lip and watching closely for his reaction.

He nods slowly at this response. "That could always change, you know?," he muses---out of the blue, shocking me.

My back straightens, my breath hitching a little "How d 'you mean?" I ask quietly, trying to weave interest through my words. I try. All that's woven through every word I'm speaking to this man is intrigue. And desire.

"I just mean---" he starts, leaning in a bit---"you've clearly never been consumed by a man before." He pauses, giving me a moment to agree with him, but I don't. I'm completely fixated on him. "But I'm certain, one day a man will come along and he'll swallow you up, Rey. He'll blindside you."

There's suggestion in his words and I'm finding them hard not to be curious about. And I'm still just staring at him.

* * *

My pulse pounds in my ears as he pulls away and turns back towards the bar, calling the barman over. I don't even hear what he orders. My surroundings have been reduced to a blur of activity, the loud sounds of the bar now a distant white noise.

There's magnetic appeal to Ben---not just his looks, but his whole persona, his voice....his _very_ words. 

"Here." He takes my limp hand and removes the water, handing me a shot glass. The contact wrenches me from my trance, and I glance around, finding the world is still happening around me. Clinking glasses with me, he smiles that lovely smile---the one that had me hooked the moment I first saw them. "Here's to being, blindsided," he says, raising his glass.

He knocks his drink back, then slams the glass on the bar and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. My eye follow every single movement as I try to read between the lines, try to unravel his words and from any grammatical sense out of them. Of course, they make perfect sense as they are, but something is telling me there's more to it. 

Maybe the slight harshness of his tone. Maybe it's the way he's looking at me, as he has all evening thus far.

"Drink up." His fingertip meets the bottom of my glass and encourages it up to my lips, and he watches as I slowly tip the liquid down my throat, caught in a massive state of pure conflict. I want him. 

For the first time in my life, I really, _really_ want a man. I _want_ this man sitting before me right now. I can feel....something and I'm certain _he_ can too.

"So, what do you do, Ben?" I ask, following my instinct to find out more about this man who's got me all hot and bothered.

"I have many talents."

I hold back my grin. "Such as?"

"Oh, the list is endless. How long have you got tonight? It would take that much time to tell you everything."

Forever! I quickly snap my mind back into line. _Really, Rey? Get a fucking grip on yourself!_ "You're _really_ cute." I quip, and then wince at my poorly chosen reply.

Ben's far from cute; this tall, well-formed, strapping hunk of a man. Ben glances away for a fleeting moment, laughing to himself. _What on earth have I just done? Stupid, Rey! Stupid. Reckless. Idiotic!_

"You're quite cute yourself." His eyes return to mine, twinkling madly. "How the hell are you still single?"

I honestly felt that I should ask him the same question. "Because I want to be. Because relationships require hard work and I'd rather invest elsewhere."

Ben nods, staring deeply into my eyes. "You mean, invest in yourself?"

"Yes." I answer honestly, even if it makes me sound rather selfish. Maybe my outlook will change one day, when the right man comes along. Who knows. But at this point in my life, there is no man, and I'm quite content with that. "I've made promises to myself that I plan to keep."

He breathes in deep, his fingers fiddling with the label of his beer bottle. "I admire that about you, Rey. Your own happiness is important and should come first, and it's quite clear that you're happy."

I sit back a little, assessing his disposition. He sounds clearly just the opposite of happy. "Why? Aren't you happy?"

"Right now? I'm deliriously happy....here....talking to you."

I smile and Ben grins cheekily, reaching forward and placing a palm on my knee, squeezing gently. My smile drops in a second, my eyes darting down to his hand touching my bare flesh. Heat spreads throughout me like cracking glass, and water ripples up the side of my highball. My shakes get so bad that I'm forced to place my drink on the bar and hold on to it in an attempt to disguise my trembling fits. 

My eyes flick up to Ben's, finding that his smile has suddenly dropped and his amusement has disappeared. Slowly, he peels his hand away from my leg. Good lord.

My world just spun out of control while he had hold of me. In those few blissful seconds, I forgot my own name, my job and my ambitions. Suddenly my only motivation was Ben--to touch him, talk to him, listen to him.

This stranger had removed me from my real life and put me somewhere else. Somewhere distracting. Somewhere consuming. Consuming. Nothing's ever consumed me, expect work. 

I've only spent a few minutes with Ben, and I already feel a little addicted to the intensity that leaks from him. This is alien....and frightening to me. It's caught me so completely off guard. My heartbeat kick-starts again, and I shake myself back to life. _My_ life. My _real_ life. 

"Look, it was really nice talking to you, Ben. But I really must go now," I breathe, slipping down from my stool.

I need to escape him now, because my mind is in a muddle and I'm scared of the reactions I'm having to him. I do the polite thing and off my hand.

He nods, slowly and understandingly. "Undoubtedly the wisest decision you'll make for the both of us."

He takes a hold my hand and, I swear, explosions happen. The stupid type that people read of in books, the ones where you roll your eyes because it's just so ridiculous to think that two people could have such a powerful connection. Blindsided. 

"Here, take this," He opens my fingers and places something in my palm. "Something to remember me by."

I look down and see a Budweiser bottle top. "Why would I want to remember you?" I ask, glancing up at him. 

"Because this night will be the one to go down in the history books." He smiles as he forces my hand into a fist, locking the bottle top tightly inside my grasp.

He's right. There's just no way that I'll ever forget my encounter with Ben Solo. "And what do you have to remember me by?"

He reaches forward and ghosts a finger down my cheek, robing me of all cognitive thought. "I have this," he murmurs, taking his touch to his temple and tapping lightly. "Store away up in here....forever."

My knees go weak, my blood's on fire. I don't need a bottle top, because, I, too, have his face stored in a safe place in my own mind. Ben leans into me and takes the tops of my arms, holding me firmly in place. When his chest meets mine, my knees actually give, and I whimper, my forehead galling onto his shoulder. Oh my God, who is this man?

His lips meet my ear and he spends a few incredible moments breathing into it before he speaks. "If I ever lay eyes on you again, Rey, I can't promise that'll do what's best and walk away the next time."

He breaks away suddenly and leaves, signaling to his friend, a fair-red haired man, who follows. He gives me questioning look as he passes me, taking in my oblivious condition. Which is what? Thunderstruck. It's the only way to describe it. 

I feel like I've been tackled from the side without warning, winding me. My lungs begin to burn, and I realize that I'm holding my breath. 

It all comes rushing out, so fast and so much of it, I lose my stability and make a grab for the bar. "Hey, are you okay?" Rose appears suddenly at my side, her eyes traveling between me and Ben as he leaves the bar.

"Yes," I squeak, and the shakes set in, an aftermath of my encounter with the most handsome and intense man I've ever come across.

"Well, wasn't he just the finest piece of ass you've ever seen," Rose says, grinning at me, before slowly losing her chirpy face and replacing it with a worried frown. "Hey, you sure that you're okay?"

Jesus Christ, I need to snap out of it. "Yes, fine." I shake myself back to life and swipe up my water, chugging it down at an epic rate. 

"So where's he gone?" she asks.

"He's a cocky twat," I mutter indignantly, lying through the skin of my teeth. It's the only way go. Telling Rose that my body burned with want, not only every time Ben touched me, but with every word he spoke, too, would be a terrible mistake on my part.

"He could have been the rebound screw that I needed," Rose sighs on dismay.

"You don't meant that."

"Actually, I do. What a total waste. You'll regret this."

"Maybe," I muse, casting my eyes to the bar entrance, seeing no sign of him. He's gone, and it's beyond me why that's making my stomach sink. "Anyway, are you okay?" I divert, a sensible move. 

I need to forget that the last half hour ever happened. The best decision I've ever made? What, walking away? And what did he mean, for both of us? 

"Perfectly fine," Rose says, taking my arm and starting to walk us back over to the table.

I look at her. "Poe _definitely_ shouldn't be your rebound fuck, Rose."

I don't miss the look that passes between them as we approach, but I'm too sidetracked to give the situation the concern that it clearly deserves, still tingling from top to toe with my encounter with Ben. I look over to the door again, his last words playing on repeat inside my mind.

_If I ever lay eyes on you again, Rey, I can't promise that I'll do what's best and walk away the next time._


	4. Chapter 4

The night ends with no further wobbles from me, but lots from my friends. Everyone is totaled, but having only drunk water since my rather enthralling encounter with one prime example of an unholy delicious man, I've maintained a sensible level of tipsiness. I've been knocked sideways, and it's taken the rest of the evening to gather myself.

Rose has harped endlessly about my failure to bed said man; Poe has flirted outrageously with Rose, and she with him; and Jannah as worn away the wood of the dance floor. Yep, that can only mean one thing. It's time for a taxis. 

"It's literally been the best night ever!" Jannah sings as I herd them like sheep to the line of cabs. She throws her arms into the air and swishes her hair. "And I fucking love my new hair! Do you love my new hair?"

She looks to Poe, who now has a wilting Rose in a headlock. That girl is so drunk and I shake my head knowing the terrible headache she will have when she wakes up tomorrow.

"I fucking love your new hair," he agrees, hiccupping.

"I think it makes you look older," Rose chimes in on a slur.

"Sophisticated!" Jannah screeches indignantly. "Eh, Rey?"

"Totally sophisticated," I confirm on a laugh. "In you get, love!" I order, pulling open the door of a waiting cab and guiding them in one by one. 

Surprisingly, no one trips up the step, but they all land in their seats with a dull thud. The taxi man looks at me, his years of experience telling him that I'm the only one he needs to communicate with.

"Evening," I say as I bend in to get in, but as I lift my foot from the curb something catches my attention across the road. I straighten my body and look over the roof of the cab as heat creeps through my veins, my blood pound its way to my heart until it's racing.

If I ever lay eyes on you again, Rey, I can't promise I'll do what's best and walk away the next time.

He's standing on the other side of the road, his hands resting lightly in the pockets of his jeans. And he's staring across at me, intensity in his caramel-colored eyes shining so bright, even from across the street. My stomach immediately begins to fill with butterflies. 

"C'mon, Rey!" Poe yells, reaching for my hand that's resting on the door. "Get in! He hasn't got all bloody night!"

The rest of the group starts chanting, possible telling me to get in the cab, too, but I can't seem to hear them. Nor can I hear the rush of traffic as it zooms by; the cars passing between me and Ben are just a blur. I don't know what to do. Get in the cab---the more sensible option---or shut the damn door and send my friends on their merry way---the stupid and reckless option. 

And I'm not stupid or reckless. I never have been. He looks like a statue, frozen into position. He's clearly waiting for me to decide, our eyes never unlocking. 

Then he nods, so verily mildly that I nearly miss it. He can see my inner conflict. He's silently willing me to remain right where I am, because despite what he said, _I_ could be the one to walk away. To make the decision for both of us. 

The choice is ultimately down to me. Whether it's the right decision for both of us is still unknown. But right and wrong aren't featuring in my mind. It's too consumed by _him._

Fuck it! I shift my grip on the door, ready to shut it. "I'll see you tomorrow, guys." I say, not even looking at them.

"Huh?" they all call in unison, but I ignore them and turn to the cabbie, reeling off their addresses. 

But my eyes remain focused on Ben standing across the road. I slam the door, heading my friends' confused mumbles, but the driver pulls away before they can even protest further. There's no question that any one of them would leave me alone on a night out, but the alcohol is in my favor tonight for a change. 

I look to the back of the cab as it drives off, seeing Rose looking out the back window, her confusion evident on her face. Then her eyes cast to the other side of the road and her mouth drops open. 

I just catch the sight of her straight lips before the cab takes a corner and disappears around the bend. My phone rings two seconds later. I don't answer it, but I do send a text, telling her that I'm fine and I know what I'm doing. 

It's a total lie, of course. I honestly haven't the faintest idea as to what I'm doing. But at this point....I honestly _do not_ care.

I look up through my lashes at Ben. There's a road between us--him standing on one curb, me on the other, cars whizzing on by between us. And when he steps into the road, having a quick check for traffic. I start backing up as he comes closer, until my back's pressed into a nearby brick wall. My breathing is shot to bits and my body is trembling like a flame in the breeze.

When he reaches me, both of his palms land on the wall on either side of my head. I'm staring at his neck, too afraid to lift my eyes to his face now that he's this close.

"Why didn't I carry on walking home to my apartment?" he asks, his frustration clear and present. "Why the fuck didn't I just carry on walking?"

 _Oh, so he has an apartment here, does he?_ I suppose he is living here full-time then instead of just passing through. Somehow that makes my spirits soar dramatically. It makes me....happy. _Because you felt it, too._ I scream inside my head, feeling very dizzy from the intoxicating smell of him---his closeness, the light skin of is groin across my dress. 

His stare drills hikes into me as his face slowly lowers toward mine. I hold my breath and let him brush his lips lightly over mine, our eyes still open and locked. 

My breath stutters, as does his. Then he pulls me away a few inches, his tongue cunning across his bottom lip, as if tasting what little of me he's just had. His chest forces against mine from his deep inhale.

"Tell me to go," he whispers, the demand licking its way from the base to the very tope of my spine. "Tell me to leave, right now."

"Go. Leave. Right now."

"Not a fucking chance in hell." He swoops in and takes my mouth as if he owns it---deeply, passionately, and with an unfathomable conviction. 

I'm immediately lost in a haze of want and lust as he grinds himself into me. Our tongues do something of a duel, our bodies pressed firmly together, and it's beyond any level of pleasure I thought was possible. 

I bring my arms up to circle his neck, holding him while we kiss like we might never get the opportunity to do this again. One of his big palms slide onto the back of my thigh and tugs, brining my leg to his waist. I'm inhaling his groans, swallowing them down into the deepest parts of me, whimpering each and every time he circles his hips into mine, forcing me harder to the wall. 

Holy fucking shit, I'm lost. Lost in him. Lost in everything that makes him Benjamin Solo the American. 

"I need more than this, Rey," he says desperately, working his lips to my war and licking the shell slowly, panting hard. "I need you in my bed. I need you naked. I need to be inside you. I need you fucking now. Where do you live?"

His question gives a moment's pause. I'm as desperate for all of that, as he is, but I still have a ting scrap of sensibility left within me somewhere. No way am I taking him back to my place. I still have to be wise about this. This isn't me, after all. 

I'm not reckless, but right now, halting this is impossible. It might be the spontaneity; it might be how illicit this all feels to me; it might even be the thrill factor, the danger and the unknown. Or it might be something as simple as intoxicating chemistry. I don't really know which, but I want more of it.

"Your place," I counter, nuzzling into his neck, feeling him shake his head.

"I can't wait that long." He pulls away from me, leaving me a shaky mess held against the brick wall. "Hotel. It's the quickest route." 

I nod, thinking that's best all around. Mutual ground. He wastes no time, sliding his hand to my lower back and putting some weight behind it. I manage to pry myself from the bricks with his support, but my legs are still quivering beyond my control as we walk urgently down the street. I look at him discreetly out of the corner of my eye, finding him focused forward, his jaw tense.

And I definitely detect his trembling beyond mine. We're both wound up like tightly coiled springs, drying to let loose on each other. It's so new to me---odd and thrilling.

The walk to the nearest hotel is excruciatingly long. Ben approaches the reception desk and asks for a room, and though the lady eyes me knowingly, I don't even blush. He gets a room card, marches me to the elevator, and virtually tosses me inside.

He doesn't even wait for the sliding doors to close. He's on me again, kissing me brutally, pinning me against the back wall and making sure that I feel what's concealed behind the fly of his jeans. He rolls us, now, _his_ back against the wall, our mouths going at it like starve lions. 

The small space is drenched in moans, groans, whimpers, and cries of passion. When the doors open we practically fall out, our mouths still glued as he walks me backward down the corridor, having a quick for the right room before he fumbles with the card and kicks the door open. He breaks our kiss and pushes me inside. I stumble back, dazed, disoriented....wanting like I've never wanted before.

He starts to unfasten his shirt as he prowls toward me, and once he's worked his way through his buttons he shrugs it off. And I gulp down my awe as I take in the smooth planes of his torso, the perfection of his body making me giddy. He can't be real. Is he real? Am I here?"

The way that he's looking at me--the sheer hunger, the resolve. I've never felt so wanted and, weirdly, needed. It's a satisfying revelation. 

But there's an alien feeling, too, one that I should probably devote a little more time toward analyzing. How much I need _him_ right now. A complete stranger. His hands move to the button of his fly as he comes top a complete stop before me, just a few feet away.

The waistband of his boxers is peeking above his jeans, taut material spanning a taut stomach. My eyes fix on his fingers as he lazily reveals more of himself to me, torturing me, his shallow breathing matching my very own. Why so slow now? Why is he dragging this out? I flick desperate eyes to his and find him watching me very closely. 

Then his jeans hit the floor. Followed by his boxers. The muscles in my legs threaten to give up on me as I stare at him before me, stark naked and beyond stunning.

This isn't me. I don't bend to a man's will, but this man has had me bending from the second that he found me at the bar. I'm so unsure whether I loathe the notion, or love it. What the hell do I know, though, there is nothing I can do about it. Neither do I want to. 

A night of dirty, raw-fucking is currently standing before me, with illicit promises shining from his brown eyes, and I'm going in feet first. As soon as I find my feet, that is.

Kicking away his shoes, jeans and boxers, he reaches down and takes my hands delicately, like he's sensed that I needed a moment of gentleness and reassurance. 

"Are you ready, Rey?" he asks softly. "Because I sure as hell am."

* * *

He doesn't even wait for my answer. He must see the certainty in my eyes. Moving into me, pressing me against the window behind me, the side of his coarse face resting against my cheek, he grips the gem of my dress and pulls it up between us. My arms lift with it as my mind searches frantically for some poise, anything to match his calm, measured actions. I have nothing. 

He's taking it slowly now, savoring every moment, every movement, every sound. My dress is gone, but he's still pressed against me, moving his hands around to my back. 

I feel the clasp of my bra release and then he steps away, pulling the straps down my arms, his eyes falling down my body. He swallows. Hard. He blinks. Slowly. He growls under his breath. 

Then he drops my bra to the floor and his eyes to my skimpy black knickers. The sight of his big, naked body before me distracts me from any shyness. The power of his presence distracts me from any restraint I should be working hard to find.

My fingers reach for the sides of my knickers and push them down my thighs, revealing myself in my entirety to him. And I wait. And wait. I wait so long for him to make his move, wondering where my mind has gone. It's lost, fallen into a pit of recklessness. All I can do now, is admire what's before me.

"Have you ever experienced this before, Rey?" he asks quietly. "The chemistry, the _dire_ need?" 

"No." My answer is easy and it's the absolute truth. 

"Me either." He steps toward and cages me against the window, picking up on the crazy, passionate kiss that he started on the street and continued in the elevator. My mind sims with pleasure. 

He's naked. I'm naked. We're touching everywhere that two people can touch, his erection wedged against my lower stomach, pulsing in time with my body. He moans around my lips, his hands sliding down to my ass and onto my thighs, squeezing constantly. I lock his wide shoulders in my arms and let him at me. 

A swift tug hauls me up to his waist on a whimper, his cock poised and ready to enter me. The glass behind me is becoming slippery, my back sliding across the smooth surface as a result of my dampening skin. 

"Open up to me, Rey," he orders, feeling the constriction of my thighs.

Without a moment's thought I relax, letting him hold me against the window with his body. "Condom," I breathe into his mouth, managing to locate a shred of sensibility though my hunger.

"I don't have one on me." He continues to kiss me, and my heart immediately sinks. "Jesus, this wasn't part of my plan for this evening, Rey," he declares. "You? Just _you_."

I lap my tongue around his, digging my nails into his shoulders. "Well, I don't have one. We should stop."

"Are you on the pill?"

"Yes, but that still doesn't make this right." I continue to kiss him, speaking into his mouth. "We _really_ should stop."

"I know." He takes my hands from his shoulders and pushes them up the glass, releasing my mouth briefly to bite my lips before plunging his tongue deep again, exploring far and wide. "We need to stop this."

"Yes, we do," I confirm through my pleasure, letting him threat his fingers with mine above my head, his lips kissing their away across my cheek and into my neck. 

"So, tell me to stop," he demands weakly and with zero conviction, sucking and biting at my tender flesh.

"Oh my God!" I breathe, slamming head against the glass behind me, my thighs tightening around his waist again. "Ben, you really need to stop."

"I will. Do you want me to?"

"No!"

He swivels his hips and enters me on a ragged shout of satisfaction, his teeth clamped tightly around the flesh of my neck. My whole world explodes into a haze of powerful pleasure as I scream to the ceiling, a long, despairing, satisfied scream. He's still now, but breathing erratically, his long, thick length fully inside of me.

The fullness twists my mind, warmth fills my veins and boils my bloodstream, and the rightness prevents me from fighting him off. His grip on my hands above my head is now solid and me legs are wrapped around him like ivy.

"My heart is hammering," he confesses, his hips shaking with the strain to keep still. "It's beating so fucking hard, and it feels so fucking good. Where the hell did you come from, Rey?"

I'd ask him the very same question if it wasn't for my inability to talk. So I push my face into his instead, closing my eyes and relishing the feel of our bodies connected so completely. Strangers. Two complete strangers. It defies reason that our joining could be this intoxicating. This whole situation defies _me_. 

"Are you okay?" His soft question prompts me to ask myself the very same thing, because I think the mind I've lost has gone forever. And for once, I'm totally okay with that. I grind down in answer, making him jerk on a whimper. So I go again, building up that friction as much as I can without Ben moving. "Jesus Christ," he mumbles, dragging his face away from my neck.

His brown eyes land on me. More than desire floods me. My whole world starts to spin completely out of control. He watches me as he draws back, slow, sure and carefully, and when he pauses, only the tip of his cock remains inside me. I pull in breath and hold it, bracing myself.

He pounds forward, and I immediately cry out. Ben grunts and the momentum is set----no more waiting, no more conscience, no more doubts.

He thrusts hard, hitting me again and again, adding the odd deep grind here and there so as to never let me guess what's coming next. Mt cries of pleasure are on a loop, our sweat mingling, and his hands around mine are locked tightly, keeping my arms ramrod straight above my head. It's insane. It's crazy, raw, carnal-fucking, and it's making me wonder amid the intoxicating feelings if one night of this passion and these feelings will be enough.

I'm vehemently holding back, not wanting this to end just yet. I can only hope that Ben feels the exact same way.

"Fuck!" he shouts, releasing my hands and cupping my ass, peeling me away from the window and turning. He carries me across the room and holds me with one arm under my bum as he swipes the contents of the desk from the surface, then lowers me onto the hard hood, coming down with me so as not to break our connection.

I yelp, squirming across the polished wood as he jacks me forward and rises to standing, taking hold of my thighs. My hands immediately go above my head and grip the edge of the desk.

His teeth clench as he withdraws, his head dropping back but his eyes remaining on mine. He yanks me up and down the desk, our sweaty skins slapping, our shouts and cries of pleasure loud and chaotic.

Yet, I still hold back on letting the looming orgasm claim me. I don't t want this to be over.....not yet.

The desk is creaking under the force, and just when I think it might give under the strain, his arm slides under my back ad pulls me up. The front of my body crashes with his, and my shout is loud. I cling to him as he takes reverse steps and then falls to his back on the bed with me straddling him. 

"Fuck me, Rey," he demands, his voice like gravel, full of hunger and sex. "Fuck me, hard. Don't think....just....just do it."

I don't delay. I've been given my order. My hips kick in and I rock back and forth, my palms braced into the hardness of his chest. His fingers claw into my thighs, like sharp talons, his face strained. From the looks of things, he won't last much longer and given to the state of things, neither will I.

"Oh shit," he groans, hips now flexing up and meeting my rhythm. The sight of him, the effect that I'm having on him, it's addictive. 

I'm spent but completely energized, my body doing things without conscious thought. Then I'm moving again. His stomach muscles clench and he sits up, edging us to the side of the bed with me on his lap. He guides my legs behind his back so that I'm wrapped around him, and his hands find my hips, lifting and then pulling me back down precisely on an exhale of shaky breath.

* * *

I yelp, the new position sending him so deep. My head goes limp, but I refuse to lose his gaze as he guides me ferociously, slamming me down onto his lap repeatedly. I don't know how much long I'll be able to fight off my release.

He's challenging me on so many levels. "Ben," I gasp, my head falling forward, our foreheads meeting.

He senses my struggle and flips me around, taking me to my back and re-entering quickly. I scream. He roars. I'm in pieces, almost frightened by the potential of the orgasm that's going to strike me at any moment.

He comes down to his forearms, my thighs clamp around his waist, and he takes us on that final stretch toward explosion. He nods, and I nod right back. He looks in pain as he takes the last few strokes, his face twisting, as I'm sure mine is.

The veins in his neck bulge, his cocks swells, and I'm shoved over the edge, screaming out loud as the nerves of my clitoris explode. He's not too far behind. A few more sharp, thrusts and I feel it----I feel _all_ of him. His essence flooding into me like a river who's dam has just been completely demolished.

My whole world goes blank, my body lax, and Ben collapses on top of me, pinning me down to the mattress as we both splutter and gasp for our next breath of air.

And, as if it's instinctive, my arms come up around his neck and hold him close to me, pulling his heavy body even closer while we ride out the waves of pleasure ripping through our bodies.

His chest is rolling atop mine and his skin's wet under my hands on his back. Opening my eyes, I look up at the ceiling of the hotel room, my hearing fuzzy with the sounds of our breathlessness. Ben is breathtaking in more ways than one. 

The silence is comfortable; neither of us in a rush to break it, and I begin to wonder if he's doing what I'm doing right now.

Is he trying to fathom what just happened between us? Is he quietly truing to wrap his mind around the extreme madness of the incredible moment we had just shared together? My thoughts begin to race as I absentmindedly trace small circles across his back, drinking in what could be our first and last night together.

It's painful, but I try not to think about that. Not right now, anyways. I'm suddenly interrupted when he chuckles softly, squirming above me. Despite myself, I smile.

"You're ticklish?"

He lifts his torso on a shudder and looks down at me. His eyes. God, his eyes are sparkling madly. "Not usually. But your touch seems to do all sorts of things to me."

I hold back from telling him that the feeling is mutual on my end, though I sense he sees it in my eyes when he reaches up to my face and draws a perfect line down my cheek to my chin, smiling as he does.

He looks thoughtful, and I'm desperate to know what his thoughts are. "Architect Rey," he murmurs, casting his gaze to mine. "I'm extremely glad now that I didn't carry on walking back home." He dips and pushes a sweet kiss onto my lips, stealing my breath once again. "You've been a most welcome distraction from real life."

I fall into the pace of his kiss, and gladly let him distract me from life as I know it, too. Just for tonight. I know tomorrow reality will hit me, and I hate that idea that I'll more than likely never see this beautiful man ever again. Life is so unfair, sometimes. 


	5. Chapter 5

The texture of the sheets beneath me is unfamiliar. So is the smell of the cotton. I feel my muscles pull as I go to roll over, and I moan, aching everywhere as I blink my eyes open sleepily. I frown, then quickly wince as I move again, trying to sit up. 

Where the hell am I? A deep, sleepy inhale penetrates my confusion, and I glance down, seeing the full, naked length of a man's body next to mine. I study the expanse of his lean muscles working my way up to his stunning face. 

"Oh my God," I whisper. Such a gorgeous face, rough with scruff, his lashes long. His lips are slightly parted, and one perfect, thick arm extends above his head, draped across the white pillow.

Ben Solo. The American. Flashbacks immediately began to pop inside my mind. So many flashbacks. Against the window, on the desk, sitting on the edge of the bed, me straddling him. Ben above me. Him gazing down at me. His light chuckles as I stroked his back.

His words. His kisses. And the explosive sex all over again---in the shower, against the bathroom room, back in this bed. I reach up and feel my damp hair, then clench my thighs, wincing at the soreness. No condom. What the hell have I done? He's a stranger. A complete stranger.

I don't know him and he doesn't know me. The fact that Ben seems like anything _but_ a stranger the whole time we were exploring each other is totally forgotten now. The connection is lost amid an angry sea of instant regret. 

A quick glimpse at the beside table clock tells me that is 4:15. The sun is slowly on it's way up. I need to leave. I need to go.... _now._

I shuffle as quietly as a mouse to the edge of the bed and search the floor in the dim light for my dress, finding it by the window. I tiptoe across the carpet, tense from top to toe, which isn't helping my achy muscles. Jesus, I feel like I've been hit by a fucking double-decker bus. I make quick work of wiggling into my dress, slipping my feet into my heels and swiping up my underwear and bag.

Then, like I might be struck down by lightning if I make even the tiniest of sounds, I slip out of the room---the room that Ben paid for so we could fuck---cringing as I ease the door closed.

I run down the corridor to the lift like a madwoman and hit the call button, and when the doors the lift open, I'm suddenly hit with more flashbacks. 

I'm pressed against the back wall, he's kissing me with me a crazy passion, and my face is pure ecstasy. I slam a lid on those thoughts and dive into the lift. I can't believe that _I_ Rey Johnson, fucked a fucking stranger. 

Who the hell am I? I don't do stuff like this. But as I watch the floors above me slowly descend, I'm horrified to realize that maybe, yes. Yes, apparently _I_ do, do stuff like this, Those flashbacks are a reminder of it, and will be for all time. You _fucked_ a total stranger.....now, you've got to deal with it. 

I let myself into my flat and put myself straight in the shower. The hot water cleaning away the evidence of my careless encounter is only a mild comfort. I can't wash my mind away of the reminders. I doubt I ever will. 

My muscles protest with my every move as I soap my body over and over, letting the water pound down harshly, hotter than I'd usually tolerate it.

 _Against the windows. His huge, hard body touching me everywhere._ I shake my head and soap even harder, concentrating on my obsessive need to scrub myself until I bleed. I feel so dirty. Ashamed of myself for being so careless. But what's worse, I feel overcome by the connection we shared, the feelings still lingering inside my head, like he could be standing right here in the shower with me now.

 _On the desk. The look in his brown eyes._ I bunch the sponge in my fist and grit my teeth, throwing it to the shower floor before grabbing the shampoo and squirting some into my hand.

My fingers go into my hair and lather, hard, fast, and furiously. _Hard, fast and furiously. The very feel of him taking me so powerfully beneath him._ I shout and let my back fall against the wall, my hurt muscles folding and taking me down to the shower floor.

I just sit there and relive every single crazy, intense second that I had shared with Ben as I stare up at the showerhead pouring water down on me. I can only hope that once I've lived the whole scene from beginning to end, my mind will finally relent and be fulfilled enough to let me forget about Ben.

Forget about the man who momentarily steered me off course from real life.

* * *

I recognize these sheets. The feel, the smell. I roll over, hissing as I go. The aches just seem to getting worse and worse. My phone tells me it's 9:30. After torturing myself in my shower with hot water and memories, I clambered into bed and drifted off to sleep, though my dreams gave me no respite.

I saw his brown eyes, heard his velvet voice, felt his soft lips and that body made for sinful things. Just a one-night stand. It was just a one-night stand. A loud crash sounds from the kitchen, and I bolt upright in my bed. 

"Hello?" I jump out of my bed and throw on a T-shirt.

"Damn!" Poe's curse calms me a little, but it also makes me wonder. What's he doing here this early on a Sunday? I make tracks to the kitchen and find him kneeling on the floor, sweeping up coffee grounds. In his boxers. 

"What on earth are you doing?" I ask, stepping over the mess to grab him a dustpan.

"And this is why I do Starbucks," he grumbles, looking up at me. His man-bun is no more, his shoulder-length black hair is a messy curly mop. He narrows a suspicious eye on me from his crouched position, humming to himself. "What time did you get in last night, you dirty stopout?" 

I start to back away, stray coffee crunching under my feet as I go. "Um...." I gulp and look over my shoulder, feeling and looking all kinds of guilty. "Who's that on the couch?" I blurt incredulously, seeing sudden movement from under a pile of blankets in the lounge. 

I swing around to find Poe now looking as guilty as I expect I was a moment ago. "Ah....well....you see..." He stands and points the dustpan brush at me, thinking hard.

"I gave you a spare keep for emergencies **ONLY!** " I snap, annoyed. "Getting your leg over on someone isn't an emergency!" 

"Look, I came here to make sure that you got home safely!" he fires back, puffy-chested. "And you were nowhere to be found. So what time did you get in?"

I do a quick calculation in my head. I piled them all in a taxi at 12:30. It would have taken half an hour to get here. Poe and Rose were so drunk; I can't even begin to imagine they were at it for....."

My thoughts halt right there. "Rose!" I screech, swinging around. Her head pops up from beneath the blankets, her hair a crazy mess, her eyes squinting. 

"Hey Rey," she croaks, before quickly diving back under the covers to hide.

I grit my teeth and slowly turn back toward my slag of a friend, scowling real hard at him. He looks sheepish. Yeah, well he should after the little stunt he's pulled, then again, I am not better. At least he slept with someone we both knew as apposed to me....a complete stranger. 

Still I didn't hold back my resentment and anger. "You are such an asshole, Poe."

"Hey, you didn't seem to care much last night!" he protests, throwing his half-naked body back to the kitchen floor and sweeping up some more granules. "Because, if I recall, you were too busy being bent over a bloody damn bar by hot-shot!" He then tosses me a disgusted look and I wilt on the spot, evading his accusing eyes. "Seriously, though, are you going to tell me what time you got in last night or not?"

"Fine, two," I lie, stomping over over to the cupboard and yanking it open, pulling down a mug----the biggest that I can find. 

"I was awake at two."

"Three, then. I can't remember the exact time. And I don't think you're in any position to pass judgements here, Poe," I point out huffily, flicking the kettle on.

"I'm a bloke, Rey. I can take care of myself. You didn't have a clue who he was." 

"I'm back in one piece, aren't I? And I didn't exactly see you rushing to stop me. Oh no! Because you were too intent on getting your end away with Rose! Bloody Rose!"

"Yes?" Her head appears beneath the blankets, her eyes blinking back the sleep.

"Nothing!" we both shout, making her slink back under, her tail between her legs.

"Look, she's just split up with Finn, Poe! A flirt, yes, but---"

"We were pissed. Both of us." Poe levels an annoyed look on me. I match it as I pass him and shut the kitchen door, my hand curled tightly around the handle of my empty coffee mug. I'm shaking and, mow that I've stopped shouting, I'm hurting all over again. Everywhere. Aching like a bitch.

Poe's annoyed look becomes concerned as his gaze skates up and down my body. "Rey, are you okay?"

I instantly fall apart. I slam the mug down on the counter and cover my face with my hands blubber like a dramatic female. And I never cry. Not ever. Not even when I know it would be appropriate for me to shed a tear, like at the end of the soppiest movies, or when my mum got all emotional when I left for the university. 

I. Just. Do. Not. Cry. 

"Whoa, whoa!" Poe's on me in a flash, his strong arms circling my shoulders and cuddling me. I don't think he's ever had to do this, except maybe once when we were both fifteen and my pet rabbit died. "What happened, Rey? Tell me."

"Nothing," I sob, shaking my head into him. I honestly don't know what's wrong with me. This is utterly ridiculous, but I can't shake away the flashbacks, nor can I forget the incredibly feelings that Ben evoked. 

It's crazy, and it's so fucking frustrating. Poe kisses my head a few times before pulling me out of his chest and looking down at my tear-stained cheeks. "Rey, did he do something to you?"

"No," I assured him. "It was just....." I pause, not sure on how to word it. "Intense. I don't know. Some stupid connection. Chemistry. Or whatever you want to call it." I brush my face off, sniff back my stupid, uncalled-for emotion, and laugh. "Jesus, we seriously packed some alcohol away last night, didn't we?"

Poe laughs quietly and thumbs over his shoulder to the kitchen door, where Rose is beyond. "We definitely did." 

I roll my eyes. I know that face. That's his _why-the-fuck-did-I-do-that?_ face. I could only hope that Rose is as regretful as Poe and there's no awkwardness between us all. "I need coffee," I sigh, holding up my mug. "Please make me coffee."

"I'll make you some coffee," he agrees, taking the mug and patting my ass as I turn to open the door. 

I immediately head for the couch and my hidden friend, landing on the edge and squishing her feet, though she doesn't murmur a sound or move a muscle. "You know, you'll still be on _my_ ouch and in _my_ apartment with Poe in the kitchen, no matter how long you hide under there, Rose Tico."

Quiet. I poke the sheets, where I expect her head to be. No movement. Rolling my eyes, I grab the blanket and yank it back, exposing Rose....who is stark naked. 

"Hey!" she yells, reclaiming the blanket and pulling it back.

"Sorry!" I chuckle. "But honestly, I don't know why you're embarrassed by it. It's nothing I haven't seen before, and now it's _definitely_ nothing that Poe hasn't seen before."

She arranges the material beneath her chin, peeking at me out of the corner of her eye as he faffs and fiddles, making a long-ass job of it. "Are you mad at me?" she pouts.

I shake my head, reclining back. I mean, how can I be? She's grieving. "You're just a silly twat, is all.'

"I know." Her agreement is very easy. "So." She cocks her head. "What happened with you and Mr. Tall, and totally Fuckable last night?"

I don't look directly at her, afraid that she might see the entire illicit encounter in my eyes. "I just had a drink with him, is all."

"Potential?" 

"No." I laugh, but it immediately fades as I fall into thought. Poe walks in and hands me my giant mug, giving me a look. I shrug and take my coffee as he hands Rose hers. 

"Ladies'," he says, trotting back off into the kitchen. I fear the worst when Rose's eyes follow his ass all the way. I can't blame her. He does have a great ass. And back. And stomach. And legs. 

"Then why all the tears?" she asks, returning her attention to me again.

"I'm tired," I mumbled. "I'm hung over, I'm hungry, and in serious need of caffeine." I slurp my coffee ravenously, hearing my phone ringing from my room. The thought of engaging my muscles to get up from the couch is enough of a reason to stay put.

So I let it ring off. Ten seconds later, Rose's fishing through her purse to find hers. She looks down at the screen and tosses it across the couch to me, and I catch Jannah's name glowing threateningly up a me. I look at Rose, she looks smug.

"I might have mentioned a man when we dropped her home in the cab."

Great. "Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask moodily. "Don't you think she's want your dirt?" I point to the kitchen and Rose dives beneath the blankets again. 

"Hello." I sound bright and chirpy.

"Spill it, Johnson. And where the fuck is Rose?"

"There's nothing to spill," I reply robotically, deciding that I'm never going to speak of it again. Never. "I had a drink with him." That's it, and when Poe looks through to me and smiles, I know that my secret will be safe with him. "And Rose stayed on my couch."

"With?"

"No one." I lie again. I can't drop Poe in it now. Jannah won't be impressed.

"Where's Poe, then?"

"He's at home, I guess."

I'm on a roll, but just when I think I might have got him off the hook and saved him from lectures with Jannah, he trips on nothing and sends his coffee flying. "BASTARD!" he yells, jumping around the kitchen. "Motherfucker, that's fucking hot!"

I slowly slump back against the couch. "He's at home, you guess?" Jannah asks tiredly. "I'm on my way over right now! Seriously, what the fuck have you lot been up to?"

"Bring Starbucks!" I yell, just as soon as she hangs up.

* * *

We slob out all day. Spread over my lounge, we watch trash television and eat hangover food. It's a clean sweep of hurting heads. As I sit on the touch, wedged at the very end, my feet dangling over Poe's shoulders where he's sitting on the floor below me, I become more and more frustrated by my inability to empty my head of the events from last night.

I don't know how many times I go over it. Over and over again, until I decided that I need some air. I slip out of my apartment into my courtyard garden, breathing some sense into myself. Or at least trying to.

I ponder what time he might have woken up. I wonder what he might have thought. I wonder if he was relieved that I was gone, or whether he was disappointed. The questions drive me positively mad. A one-night stand. That's all it was. I know how they work. 

But with a man that I'd only talked to for half an hour? And in a hotel? And without any sort of protection? I must have lost my mind. But something about Ben made it easy to lose. He had stripped me of all sense. Had me surrendering to him. It's so unlike me, and what's more, all this fucking picking things to pieces, is unlike me, too.

I look up to the sky. I left that hotel for a reason. Problem is, I don't know what that particular reason was. I was out of there like a shot, my instincts kicking in and backing them up. 

It would be easy to accept if there was nothing there for me---no spark, no connection, no chemistry. But there _was_ a spark. There _was_ chemistry. There _was_ a deep, inexplicable connection. And it scared the living hell out of me. It's the only explanation for me running. 

"Get.....a.....fucking....grip....woman," I say slowly, slapping the ball of my pal into my forehead. Leaving before he woken was the best decision. No morning awkwardness. No wondering what comes next. Simple.

So why is my mind trying to make this a tattered mess of complication is beyond me. I need to stop with this silly, obsessing, because no man that gifted and gorgeous can be good for a woman.

That's why I ran. I make my way back into my apartment and nip the loo to check my face, brushing at my cheeks. I still look flushed. 

Fucked, even. Shaking my head, I go to grab my bag from the bed to get my phone, searching fingers faltering when I lay my hand on something else. I pull out my hand and stared down at the Budweiser bottle cap lying in the center of my palm. 

Something to remember him by. Last night really will go down in the history books for me. _My_ history. It was definitely a night to remember, and I'm suddenly saddened that that's now all I have to remember him by.

Just memories. Flashbacks of what had been the best night of my entire life. And a bottle cap.


	6. Chapter 6

The week has flown by, working swallowing up all my time, but I've managed to catch up with Poe for lunch, and Rose for dinner. Poe was just how I expected him to be; blasé about the weekend's events between him and Rose. I met Rose the next day hoping to find the same reaction. She rolled eyes at her mention of it, her regret clear. 

"Trust me, it was a mindless screw with a mate," she'd said. "I've already forgotten about it."

I wish I could convince myself to do the same about Ben. Forget about it. Forget about him. But his damn face just keeps popping into my mind, along with every other gorgeous piece of him. It's like he's branded himself on my brain. I'm being tormented daily by him and memories of than night---a night that I have no hope of forgetting anytime soon.

Reliving it all is both frustrating and thrilling. My body still aches, now more deliciously, rather than the initial deep wince-worthy ache. Soon, all physical evidence of my encounter with Ben Solo will be gone. He'll have returned to America where I know I can never reach him.

Yet I know that the memories will still be fresh as they were the next morning. It's Friday, for God's sake. Nearly a whole week as passed. When will he fuck off out of my head?

"I love this," Lando Calrissian says, looking over the revised drawing at the front elevation of his new gallery. He's a studious man, his life revolving around art, creating it, and filling his creative mind with as much information as he can get. His nose is constantly buried in some kind of textbook, magazine, or cultural article. "And you think the planning department will pass it?" he asks, looking at me as he pushes his spectacles up his nose. 

I put my coffee down and smile. "The regulations stipulate the frontage being in keeping with the street and area." I point to drawing and to the sash windows. "We're not really changing all that much on the front, and given the building is currently derelict, anything is any improvement."

Lando laughs. "You'd think the council would be extremely thankful that someone is finally renovating the place, instead of enforcing their red tape. It's an eyesore." 

"I completely agree, and that's probably why they've passed on these plans." 

He looks at me, shocked. "They've passed them?"

I smile. "After the two rejected submissions, I went to the offices to pin down the planning officer. These right here are a yes." 

"Finally!" he chants, clapping his hands.

"And this roof in the back will be what sets it apart from all the other galleries."

"I agree." He sighs, shaking his head in despair. "But the cost, Rey."

I smile to myself. I knew the potential cost would be somewhat an issue. Which is why I've been doing some personal digging on the side. "I have a proposal for that, actually."

"Which is what?"

"I know of these guys based over in France, and I made a quick call. They have estimated roughly half the price of the British manufacturer keeping us right on track with the budget." My excitement is hardly containable. "My only major concern is getting it over from France to Dover intact."

"A good haulage frim will do the job, right?"

"I truly hope so, because it it's damaged when it arrives on site, the schedule will go down the pan and your contractors won't all that happy about it. Neither will you, I expect, since we're working to a tight schedule for your launch evening." 

"But half the price?"

"Subject to final measurements, which I'm sure are quite accurate by this point. So, yes."

"Then it's a no-brainer."

"Fabulous!" 

Lando stands and collects his briefcase. "Well, I'll leave it to your capable hands, Rey. Just let me know what you need and when. And I could do with a copy of those drawings to send to my contractors so they can give me a final quote. It'll be extremely helpful if you could give me the details of this French company you mentioned, too, so they can liaise with them." 

"I'll sort it this evening."

"Or you could just bring them along to the meeting on Monday morning? I'm due at the auction house at ten o'clock, so what do you say that we meet at the bistro around the corner at nine-thirty?"

"Sure. That sounds great." Gathering up my things, I offer my hand and receive a solid shake. "I'll see you tomorrow night, then?" 

Lando frowns. "What's happening tomorrow night?"

"I invited you to my housewarming, remember?" I smile, throwing my bag over my shoulder. "But don't worry if you've forgotten."

"Damn, I have a dinner arrangement with the contractor who'll be undertaking the works here." He thumbs over his shoulder. "Something informal before we kick things off on Monday at the meeting. I'll sneak away as soon as I can."

"Hey, bring them along. I can do informal before Monday, too."

"Yes, that's a great idea!"

"That's sorted, then. I'll see you tomorrow." I smile and get on my way. 

* * *

Bringing the tablespoon to my lips, I slurp the concoction loudly and rolled the liquid around my mouth. "Hmm, it needs more rum," I declare to myself, tipping the bottle over the bowel and stirring it up as it glugs out.

I lift the spoon and slurp again, this time wincing. Strong. Perfect! I then transfer the bowl of punch into the big table and lick at my sticky fingers before collecting glasses from the cupboard and lining them up for easy access. I want everything in sight so I don't have to be running around all night long playing hostess at my own housewarming. 

I just want to enjoy myself tonight. I need tonight--my friends, alcohol and some laughs. There's a knock on the door and I run to let the gang in, but when I swing it open, I find only Rose. No one else, just Rose.

"Where's everyone?"

"On their way." She pushes her way in and heads for the kitchen. "I wanted to have a moment and talk to you before they all got here."

"Why? What's up?" Has something happened with Finn? I follow her and crack open a bottle of wine, pouring us both a glass.

" _You_ , Rey. You are what's up! You've been acting weird this week. Quieter than usual. What gives?"

I immediately clam up, my eyes darting. I can't deny that I've been off of sorts. Even Poe passed a comment at lunch, and when I responded to Jannah's text message with a one-word answer yesterday, she too, was on the phone asking mw what's up, too.

"My head is full, that's all," I say lamely, taking some wine.

"Of what?" Rose sounds suspicious and curious. I like neither. 

"Work. Things to do around this place."

"Bullocks," she spits, as if insulted by my reply. "You've not been the same since Saturday night. What happened? And please don't insult me by saying that it was just a pleasant drink."

"Well, it _was_ a pleasant drink," I mumble on a shrug. "I'm not going to lie about that."

"REY!"

"Okay, fine!" I slam my glass down in frustration. "I fucked him, you happy?! Or he fucked me. It was so unbelievably good. He was unbelievably good, but aside from his capabilities in the bedroom, there was....." I fade off, a string of shocked gasps coming from my friend. "Something else."

"Something?" she asks quietly. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," I grate, reclaiming my wine and taking a long slug. "Chemistry. A real connection. Something that I haven't ever experienced before."

"Oh shit," she breathes.

"That doesn't really help me, you know?"

"I seriously can't believe that you kept his from me, Rey!"

"Well, with you and Finn---"

"Bollocks to me and Finn! He's a cheating dick, and I should've seen that, and that's my burden to bear! How was it left? Did you give him your number? Arrange a _real_ first date?"

I cringe all over my kitchen. "No. I sort of snuck out when he was still asleep." 

"What?!" Rose screeches, slamming her own glass down on the counter. "Are you fucking shitting me here, Rey Johnson?!"

"No. I almost wish I was." I surprise myself with my willing answer, and the fact that, yes, I regret walking out and leaving no line of possible future contact. "I can't stop thinking about him, Rose. It's driving me fucking loopy!"

"Wow. It was that good, huh?"

I collapse to my ass on a chair, exhausted after my confession. "It's crazy, isn't it?" I wonder for the millionth tome on whether Ben has even thought about _me_. I want to believe so much that he's as tummy-tied as I am, relieving the night, obsessing about the connection we had and what it might mean. 

"Well, have you looked him up?"

I laugh. "I've hardly got much to go on. His name's Ben....and well, his name's Ben and he's an American."

"Well, do you _want_ to find him?"

Now, that's the operative question, isn't it? Right now it's all my head. Safe and secure in my mind, where I can relive the perfection day and night forever.....even if it's slowly driving me mad. I shouldn't do anything stupid, like risk ruining that. Like finding him and discovering that he's actually a dick. 

Like discovering that he is nothing like I remember. But what if he is? What if the sparks fly again and the constant butterflies in my tummy erupt?

Rose stands up and my eyes rise with her until I find her face. She's smiling knowingly. "Tonight we get pissed. Tomorrow we hit the Google and see if we can find the man who's knocked my mate's knees bandy." 

Screw it. He's clearly not going to fuck off out of my head. "Fine." I head for the door when I hear the doorbell ring, answering to Poe, Jannah, and a scattering of more people behind them.

They all wave bottles at me, their tickets for entry. I laugh, swing the door wide open, and let them all trample through my apartment as they sing their joyful hellos. Just as Jannah passes, I snatch her elbow?

"Where's Wexley?" I ask, doing another quick check of the sea of heads to make sure that I've not missed him.

"He's not here."

"Oh?" I release her arm when se shakes off her blazer.

"Rey, I'm just not made to deal with kids no matter how adorable and cute they are sometimes." She rolls her yes. "And bubble gum. I owe it to my hair to make a stand on that statement."

I give her a sympathetic face to hide my own eye roll. "There's a bottle open in the fridge. Help yourself."

"Fab!" She's off down the hall quickly. "Now we're all single!" she sings, crashing into the kitchen and demanding alcohol. I smile and follow her, letting Rose kiss me on the cheek as I pass her. 

"Okay?" she asks tentatively, wiping away the pink lipstick she's just smeared on my cheek. 

"Perfect." I clink out glasses together and back the first of many wines.

An hour later, Poe is playing DJ and everyone is shouting requests at him. The drink is flowing and the chatter is lively, laughter filling my new home. I smile as I stand in the courtyard watching all of my friends mingle together and drink. Jannah comes from the kitchen, her eyes scanning the crowd.

She spots me and waves an arm in the air. "More guests at the door, Rey!" she calls, pointing through the kitchen to the hallway before she makes a beeline for Poe, delighted at the sight of shots.

I rush to the door and swing it open, finding Lando. "Hey!" I sing, opening up the path to him. "Welcome, come on right in."

"Hi, Rey!" Lando chimes happily, walking into my hallway and taking me in a friendly hug. "Thanks for the invite."

I let him release me, and an attractive lady with strike bleach-blonde hair wearing a silver dress quickly crowds me, holding up a bottle of wine, tapping the side with a long red fingernail. "I brought you this, since we're technically crashing."

Lando laughs. "Rey, this Gwen. Gwendoline Phasma." 

I accept the bottle from her. "It's very nice to meet you, Gwen."

"And this is her husband, Ben." Lando nods past me. "My contractor from the States."

I turn back toward the door, frowning, my brain slow to catch on. Ben? Contractor? _Husband_? I can feel my blood runs cold and the bottle of wine slips through my fingers, shattering at my feet as I stare into very familiar, intense caramel-colored eyes.

"Ben?" I barely whisper, my mouth dry, my hand squeezing the door handle to try and steady my trembling. 


	7. Chapter 7

"Oh, no!" Gwen cries, appearing suddenly at my side. "Are you okay?" She bends and starts collecting the broken pieces of glass. "Oh my, there's wine everywhere!"

I just stare. And so does he. I know that Gwen is talking, but I can't seem to make out a single word she's saying, hearing only Ben's voice through the flashbacks currently bombarding me, more vivid and and real than any time before. 

I blink rapidly, my breathing coming in short, fast bursts. I need to pull myself together. Quickly. Ripping my eyes away from Ben's, I drop to my haunches and start carelessly collecting pieces of glass, my mind in utter chaos. He's here? Oh my God, he's here! And he's _married?!_ I immediately start to sweat. 

"I'm so sorry," I mumble to the floor, suddenly feeling a sharp pain bolt through my finger. Dropping all the shards I've clumsily gathered, I suck in arm and look blankly down at the blood trickling from the cut. Tears flood my eyes, a mixture of pain and desperation as Gwen grabs my arm.

"You've cut yourself," she says, pulling me to my feet. "Let me see."

I'm trembling in her hold. She must surely feel it. "I'm sorry." I mumble mindlessly, looking up at her.

She looks straight into my eyes, and I look away quickly, fearful of what she might read in them. "Here. Ben, take Rey to clean up in the bathroom while I clear this mess up."

"No, really, it's fine," I blurt out, yanking my hand away fast, my panic rising. "Honestly, it's just a silly little nick. I need to mop this up."

"I'll wipe up," Lando offers. "You get a bandage." 

"Come on, he's right." Ben's voice hits me from the side, and then his hand claims mine. I jolt like a frightened animal, jumping back a few steps. Then I do something so utterly stupid. I look at him, finding those brown eyes full of concern. 

He tilts his head, saying so much before he breathes a word. "Where's the bathroom?" he asks.

I point down the corridor, losing the ability to talk altogether. Before I can even think to protect, Ben has his hand against the small of my back, pushing me towards my bedroom. His touch is like fire against my back, burning through the material of my plum dress. We're going to be alone. What will he say? What will I say?

He's married?! He's here, in my house with his fucking wife! And he's Lando's contractor! My stomach churns. He doesn't close the bedroom door behind us, choosing to only push it shut a little. 

Then he's leading the way across the room, pulling me along behind him urgently. After a quick check over his shoulder, he pulls the bathroom door closed behind us, an thought I'm a wreck on the side, I manage to appreciate how suspicious the closed doors might look if his wife comes to find us. I step forward to push it open again, but Ben intercepts me, blocking my way with his tall, well-built body. 

More flashbacks, except his body is naked. I refuse to look up at him. I'm a big far mess on the inside---confused, hurt, and angry--but a lust and desire that I'm all too familiar with dominating me. 

And I'm terrified by it. It wasn't the alcohol that night. And it wasn't a fig of my imagination, either. It was real, and I'm feeling it all again even now. When I really shouldn't be.

He doesn't speak, leaving the silence drenched with unspoken words and penetrated craving. I knew I should have stayed away! I sensed there was a reason I should have stayed away from him! Oh my God, he's married! I checked for a ring that night. He wasn't even wearing a ring!"

"I need to go," I push past him, but he seizes me and holds me firmly in place, his breathing and labored.

"You're Landon's architect?" he asks, his voice rich and smooth even though it carries reasonable worry.

"Yes," I answer, short and sharp, not following it up with any of the questions that I should be firing at him right now. Pretend I don't know him. Pretend I've never clapped eyes on him before in my life. It's the only way. "Why didn't you tell me you're married?"

The question just falls out. His hand squeeze my shoulder. "I couldn't," he says simply. "I physically couldn't utter the fucking words to you, because at the moment in time, Rey, I was wishing that I wasn't, more than I've ever wished it before."

Wished it before? I shake my head before I can let that question hold me here any longer. "I really must go now. I have guests---"

"No." he grates, shaking my a little. 

My anxiety rockets. I can only pretend nothing happened between us, and his attitude right now is telling me he's not prepared to. Or maybe he's worried I'll say something to his wife. _His wife!_ His wife who's currently sweeping up broken glass in my hallway!

Anger bubbles up from my toes, and I bravely look at him. His handsome face is like a sucker punch to my turning stomach. I feel so sick. "I won't say anything to her if that's what you're worried about?"

"You were gone," he whispers, taking my arm and pulling me toward the sink. 

He flips the tap on and forces my hand under the running water. There's no pain at all. I can't feel a damn thing through my shock of this sudden revelation. 

"I woke up and you were just....gone," he says. "Why? Why'd you leave?"

His audacity astounds me. Like I have to justify my actions to him? "I think it's a little fucking irrelevant now, don't you think?!" I seethe, wrenching my hand from the sink and grabbing a hand towel to wrap it in. 

I'm so fucking stupid! I bet he's out most weekends enticing women back to hotels with those sinfully good looks of his, the right words, his twinkling eyes and a bit of charming banter. He's clearly got away with it, too, because his wife obviously trusts him. She didn't think twice about sending him into a room alone with me. What an asshole!

I'm suddenly so mad with myself for wasting a whole week going over every tiny detail of our encounter, picking it to pieces and trying to make sense of it. How many other women has he blindsided like this?

He moves in closer and bends a little, his scent invading my nose. I hold my breath to avoid it. To stop myself from relishing in it.

"There is nothing irrelevant about that night, Rey. I've thought of nothing else since," His hand comes up and cups my cheek, his thumb circling lightly over my skin.

My whole body immediately relaxes, the feel of him touching me so tenderly cutting straight through my anger, and I release my breath, getting a strong hit of his manly smell. It seems me woozy.

"There was something that happened between us," he whispers. "Fucking hell, something that's possessed me. I can't seem to get you out of my head, Rey. I've been back to that bar every damn fucking night looking for you." His face comes close, his breath warming my cheeks and I close my eyes and fall into a trance. "You felt it, too, didn't you? It wasn't just the sex. Tell me you felt it, too."

 _Don't be afraid. I feel it, too_. He brushes his scruff lightly against my cheek and I moan, despite myself, suddenly catapulted back into hotel room.

"I thought I'd never see you again."

I swallow, trying not to let the confirmation that he's thought about it, too, run away with me. It's a moot point now. But his touch. It's like being consumed by fire, pulling all of the memories to the front of my mind, making me relive them all relentlessly.

"That night," he breathes. "With you curled into my side, I had no worries. No problems, whatsoever. I felt nothing beyond you, and it was fucking perfect, Rey."

I swallow and squeeze my eyes shut. "Yes, it was perfect until I found out that you're married!"

The words hurt, and though I'm willing my self to step back, to remove myself from his touch because I know that I shouldn't be loving the feel of him, I don't. I remain right where I am, unwilling and unable to rob myself of the amazing feelings that I've dreamed about experiencing again and again. 

"You kept it," Ben says softly, pulling my eyes open. He picks up the bottle cap from the shelf above my sink and fiddles with it for a few seconds, studying it moving between the tips of his fingers. I say nothing, watching as he looks at me. "You couldn't forget it, either, could you?"

We stare at each other for a few minutes as he blindly put the bottle cap back. Then he moves closer, pushing his body into mine. Explosions. And his mouth drops lazily to mine. In my head I'm screaming, demanding that I push him away. But my heart is fluttering and my body is coming to life again. His lips. His touch. His voice. His face. His kisses.

Soft kisses turning into hard kisses. Just one more of those all consuming kisses. One more. _Please, just one more._ His lips gently brush mine, and I go completely lax against him. 

"Ben!"

I'm immediately snapped from my recklessness when her voice slams into the bathroom, and I fly back, as does Ben, just as the door opens and his wife appears. "Is it really bad?" she asks, approaching me.

Her very presence aligns my sensibility in the heartbeat. "It's nothing, really," I assure her, smiling tightly. "I think I have a bandage in the kitchen."

"Maybe you should put some antiseptic cream on it first," Ben says quietly, and I look at him, finding intense brown eyes nailed to me.

Gwen laughs and places a dainty hand on Ben's exposed forearm. His whole body locks up, going visibly tense. "Always so wise, you are," she says dreamily as my eyes fall to where her hand is resting on his flesh.

Solid arms, braced on either side of my head as he pounded into me. _No!_ I shake the flashbacks away and pluck some stability from nowhere. "What great way to start the night off." I laugh, watching as Ben pulls his arm away from his wife's touch, flicking nervous eyes at her. 

Her eyes aren't nervous. They're narrowed. More tension. I hate being stuck in the same room with either of them. I need to think of something....and fast. 

"Let's get back to the party." I gesture toward the door, relieve when Gwen slaps a smile on her face and leads on. Ben following closely in behind her.

I follow them out. Them. Gwen and Ben. A married couple. His shoulders are stiff, his profile appearing every few seconds when he looks back at me. Each time, I glance away, dying on the inside, bombarded by so many feelings. I don't know what to do with any of it. The guilt; that's more the most potent feeling of all. And then some more panic when I see Rose coming in from the garden.

Oh Jesus, I've been so caught up in my state of shock that I forgot my friends were here tonight were also in the bar that night. I watch in horror as she pulls to a slow stop, looking straight past Gwen to Ben, her smile slowly falling away.

I fly past Ben, knocking his arm, and reach for Rose, forcing her to retreat back outside. "You don't know him," I whisper on her ear as I whirl around, slapping a smile om my face. "This is Rose!" I declare, making quick introductions. "Rose, this is Ben, my client's contractor, and his _wife_ , Gwen."

I don't mean to emphasize that word with spite, but just in case Rose is slow on the uptake, I need to spell it out, loud and clear, my fucked-up situation. Rose presents her hand to each of them in turn, smiling brightly. She has the casual, blasé mask far more nailed than I do.

"How lovely to meet you," she gushes, turning to me once she's said her hellos. Her dark eyes are wide. So fucking wide. They should be. "I'll go change the music."

Her head tilts to the side a little in silent signal. I read her mind like I could be reading from a script. She's going to make sure that Jannah and Poe don't drop me in the shit. I just hope the don't recognize Ben; they were all pretty pissed, but I just can't risk it. 

"I think only Poe will recognize him." Rose whispers as she passes me. 

God, I hope so. Lando appears in the doorway. "Are you okay?" 

"It's nothing," I assure him. "Did you get a drink?"

"Yes." He holds up a glass filled with red wine. "I was just seeing to Ben and Gwen's but I got distracted by your friend, Poe. He's a personal trainer, and I need one of those!" Lando flexes his nonexistent biceps and makes his way back into the garden. "Get those drinks and come join us."

"What would you like?" I ask Gwen, pulling the cupboard open and retrieving the small first aid box. 

"Wine would be lovely, please, thank you. White, please, if you have it."

"Ben?" I ask, hating how his name sounds on my lips. "I definitely hear a deep inhale of breath from behind me."

"Beer, please," he says, as I make quick work of slapping a small bandage over my tiny cut. "Budweiser, if you have it, please?"

* * *

My fumbling fingers falter. Budweiser. I see him tipping a bottle to his lips and I see me, rapt by his taut throat. And the bottle top. Something to remember him by. 

"I do have it, actually." I shove the first aid box back in the cupboard and turn, catching his eyes.

"Thank you." He glances away, kicking me into action.

I make fast work of getting their drinks, but not so fast that Rose doesn't have time to suss out the rest of my friends. When she appears in the doorway again, mildly nodding, I very nearly puddle on the floor. 

"The garden?" I lead the way and introduce Ben and his wife to a few people, feeling him staring at me the whole time.

Jannah is oblivious to Ben and who he is, but Poe's stance definitely alters the moment he claps eyes on him. I stare at my oldest friend until he looks at me, then give him begging eyes, hoping he sees and absorbs my plea. He shakes his head, looking as disturbed by the situation as I'm feeling, before returning his attention to Lando again. You'd have to be dead not to feel the tension bouncing around my courtyard garden.

I'm certain everyone must feel it, yet as I glance around, everyone is chatting normally, unaware. I leave Gwen and Ben with Jannah and rush to the kitchen to find more wine, knowing I'll have company in--

"What the actual fuck?" Rose hisses, joining me by the worktop as I pour with shaking hands.

I nod my agreement and bring the glass up to my lips, swigging back half of the wine. The alcohol numbs the pain, at least for now, that is, but I know it'll be back in full-swing and the numbness will turn quickly back into pain.

"Please, tell me you didn't know."

"I didn't know," I say calmly, not insulted by Rose's demand as I swallow my wine and turn, resting my ass against the counter. Poe falls into the kitchen with wide, worried eyes.

"Are you okay, Rey?"

I nod and sip more wine. "He's married," I mumble mindlessly, staring into my wineglass. "My amazing one-night stand is married, in my house and with his fucking wife, and he's my client's contractor." I look up to my friends. "I have to work with him." I laugh. "You could even fucking write it!"

"The bloody wanker," Poe spits, slamming his glass down on the counter.

"Jannah was too busy dancing throwing back shots to take any notice of him in the bar that night," Rose says, looking outside, no doubt checking the coast is clear.

"I can't believe this," I splutter. "All that time I wasted thinking about him. I feel so stupid."

"Here." Rose pours more wine into my glass and Poe comes over, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. 

"I'm such an idiot! Stupid! I'm so fucking stupid!" 

"No," they both snap in unison. "You're not stupid, Rey. You're not."

"But I am. I fell right into his hands, and now I have to look his wife in the eyes knowing that I fucked her husband like a bitch in heat." The very thought sets my panic off again and I begin to tremble, my wine splashing up the side of my glass.

"This isn't your fault," Rose grins the words out, annoyed. "Look at me, Rey," she demands, and I do. "I want you to calm down. Just get through tonight and then we'll reconvene in the morning, all right?"

"What am I going to do, though?" I ask. "There's no way in hell that I can work with him!" I'll have to quit Lando's project. It's my dream design coming to life, and now I'll have to abandon it. This night couldn't honestly get any more worse, could it?

"No, for now you're not going to let him ruin your night. Tomorrow we'll...."

The room falls silent when another presence is noted by all three of us, and we all look towards the door. Ben's standing in the doorway, absorbing the fire glares pointed at him. "I need to talk to Rey," he states confidently. 

"What?" Poe pipes up, almost laughing at the cheek of his declaration. "What gives you the right, I ask? Huh? You turn up here large as life, with your fucking wife?"

"I have only one person to explain myself to," Ben says calmly. "Just give me five minutes, Rey," He lands me with brown eyes full of desperation. I force myself to disregard his evident despair and tell myself I'm owed an explanation. Because in all honesty, I am.

"Fine, five minutes," I confirm, glancing nervously over at Poe and Rose, knowing that I must be as mad as they think I am. But I need to hear what he has to say. I need some closure. "I'll be fine, Rose." 

They both leave, clearly reluctant, and once we're alone, that energy between Ben and me--the energy that frightens me--surges forward. It's so powerful it makes me move across the room hastily to put as much distance between us as possible and perhaps, to make the situation look as casual as possible should anyone walk in. Just two people having a chat about business in the kitchen.

"Go ahead them, Ben. Explain," I say, cutting straight to the chase. 

His hesitation is obvious. "Before I explain everything, you need to know something. You need to know that I have never ever cheated on my wife. Not ever, Rey. Not until I met you." 

I scoff, unable to force it back. "And that just suddenly makes everything okay?"

"I didn't say it makes everything okay. I just want you to know that I don't make a habit of cheating on my wife on a daily basis. I moved here to the UK after some unfortunate family-related issues. That's when I met Gwen and married her irrationally and very suddenly." 

He moves forward a few steps, and I hold my hand up, silently stopping him from coming any closer as I glimpse over my shoulder into the garden. His wife is chatting with Rose. My friend's keeping her occupied while her husband is in here with me. I wince, swallowing down the building guilt. 

"Have you thought about me....at all, since that night?" he then asks.

I immediately snap my eyes to Ben's. "No." Admitting it to him would be incredibly stupid. 

"Don't lie to me, Rey, " he warns, totally serious now. "Don't pretend that you didn't feel it, too."

"What the hell does it even matter now?" I hiss. "The point here is, you lied to me, Ben. You're married. Where was your ring?"

He throws his hands up, showing me his ring finger. It's still bare. "I don't wear one now. I broke a knuckle when I worked the tools and haven't been able to get it back on since." 

"Then you should have told me that!" I imagine plenty of women throw themselves at him. He should have a sign on his head or something, some kind of visible warning not tog o near. 

"Told you?" He almost laughs. "I already said, Rey, that I couldn't. I couldn't even think of the words. I saw nothing else except _you_. I've thought of nothing except how much I wanted _you._ Everything else paled. All I see are your hazel eyes staring up into mine. All I can feel your skin against me. Your breath in my ear."

"Stop it, Ben!" I demand, ignoring the fact that I had a similar very reaction to him. But I'm single. I'm allowed to feel like that. He shouldn't. Not when he's taken. 

"No." He comes over to me, and I find myself quickly checking behind me again, all skittish, before looking at him. He's too close. It's dangerous for more reasons than his wife possibly walking in here. "I can't stop, Rey."

I shake my head and move away, opening a cupboard and pulling down a bag of pretzels, anything to look busy and casual. "You're married. It ends here," I say firmly and evenly, not allowing his words to pierce my resolve. 

"The question is, do you want it to?" he asks, knocking me back a bit.

I don't answer him nearly as quickly as I should, distracting myself with pouring the pretzels into a bowl. "Are you really suggesting that we start an affair behind your wife's back?"

"I'm asking you if you're curious about _us_ , Rey."

"There is no 'us,'" I whisper-hiss, performing another check of our surroundings. 

"But what if there should be, Rey? What if there should be?"

I balk, surrounded. "Should be?"

"Look, I've played tug-of-war with my conscience all fucking week long, Rey. I've told myself that this isn't the right way to get out of my marriage. I've tried, I've tried so fucking hard to stop thinking about you and then shit happens with Gwen and I'm back to square one, obsessing over you and how you made me feel. The smiles you pulled from me. The feelings you spiked. You are clouding everything."

Shit happens with Gwen? I hate myself for wondering too hard what that shit is. I can't ask. I know I _shouldn't_ ask. This must end. 

"You will stay away from me, Ben." I pivot and leave the kitchen before Ben can come back at me with anything else that may dent my determination, slapping a smile on my face as I enter the garden.

I just need tonight to be over with so that I can commence the meltdown that's undoubtedly going to floor me later on. He felt it, just like I did---the connection, the overwhelming chemistry. But it was just lust, stirred up and made more potent by the large amounts of alcohol we both had consumed that night. And spontaneity. 

I have to keep telling myself that. It's the safest way. I never thought I'd actually see him again, that he would remain, at least to me, a beautiful albeit frustrating fantasy inside of my head. A benchmark for all men who may come after him. I seriously doubt I'll ever find that bone-crushing attraction with anyone else. I've been teased, experienced something incredible, only to discover that I can never have it again. 

That I probably should never have had it in the first place. Denying yourself is one thing. Being denied but something that is completely out of your own control is a whole new ballgame. It just makes you want it that much more.

* * *

I watch with baited breath as Gwen chats with Lando, and Ben stands silent at her side, obviously distracted. No matter how hard I try. I can't stop my eyes from straying over to him. Every single that I catch his gaze, I quickly look away, pushing down my thumping heart as it works it's way up to my throat.

I fight to keep myself in conversation, but I'm too unfocused, seeing mouths move but hearing no words being spoken. My head is full of reminders. 

Of the things that Ben said to me. Of the way he touched me and made love to me. I discreetly glance over to him again, but this time his attention is on his wife as she speaks to him. Lando raises his hands, like in surrender and backs away from the couple warily, making his way over towards me. Gwen looks a little mad, and though I try my hardest to lip-read her, I can't make out what she's saying to her husband.

Her husband. Ben. Gwen's husband. 

"I do believe it's kicked off right there," Lando laughs, a little tipsy as he reaches me.

"What has?" I ask, playing ignorant, keeping one eye on him and one eye on Ben.

"Ben is a diamond of a bloke, truly, but it seems the rumors are _definitely_ true." 

"What rumors, Lando?" I ask, frowning as I watch Gwen's face get closer to Ben's and he retreats a little, shaking his head and closing his eyes. He's gathering patience.

"Well," Lando starts, hesitantly. "I've only met the woman just tonight, but I can _clearly_ see what people mean. She's a bit....of a handful."

A handful? Now I can't rip my eyes away. Ben is clearly trying to keep whatever's gotten Gwen irked on the down low from the other guests, leaning in to speak to her and placing a comforting hand on her arm. My eyes root to that same hand, feeling it touching me all over again.

What is wrong with her? Is she suspicious? Has she sensed the fiction between Ben and me? My eyes jump between them, trying desperately to figure out what's going on. Ben catches my eye, and he breathes in deeply as Gwen shrugs him off and throw her wine back on a sneer. She then marches off to top up her glass, and I find myself stuck in position, wanting to move away but unable.

I start to shake, fearful of the lack of control that I have over my body where Ben's concerned. And worse, my mind.

"Best to keep out of the way of domestics," Lando says, pointing to my empty drink. "Another drink?"

I strain a smile. "I just need the toilet." I force my shaky legs to take me into my apartment and to my bathroom. I close the door and fall back against the wood, trying to breathe some calm into my lungs. I feel like I could crack under the presence of Ben's presence, my mind going into overdrive, wondering if the tension between us is that obvious.

Wondering what his wife's grievance is. I'm not the paranoid type, usually. I'm not unreasonable. Yet right now I feel like I have a bright neon sign stuck to my back detailing all of my sins. 

"Rey?" There's a knock on the door behind me and Rose's concerned voice drifts into the bathroom. "Are you okay in there?"

"I'm fine." i rush toward the sink and brush at my flushed cheeks, then spot the bottle cap on the top shelf. I'll never be able to look at Budweiser the same way again. Clenching my jaw, I grab the cap and throw it in the bin. "I'm coming, just finishing up in here."

"They're gone," she says quietly through the door.

I swing around, air gushing from my lungs in relief. "They are?" I ask her.

"Yes, they just left. His wife seemed a bit too drunk."

I open the door and face my friend's pursed lips, trying to smile. It's an epic fail. "A bit?"

"Okay. She was totally fucked," Rose eyes me carefully. "But to be fair, she was drinking wine like it was water."

I wince. "I think they were arguing. What if she knows something, Rose?" I start to shake again. Damn him! Damn him all to hell!

"She doesn't know, Rey. I hard doubt she knows which way is up or down right now, the way she was staggering out of the bloody front door, she's so drunk. You need to calm down."

I try to breathe steadily, and Rose takes my arm. "Come on." She pulls me out of the bathroom where I think I'd happily hide for the rest of my life. "I know what'll cheer you up. Poe's lined up shots, and I think you could use about ten of them."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to work tonight, so this chapter may no be finished until tomorrow! Will update you on it!

I spend the rest of the evening pretending to listen to conversation while constantly wondering what Ben's thinking, what he's doing, and what he's probably saying to his wife at this exact moment. Poe and Rose make their excuses to hang back when everyone else leaves, though the knowledge of an impending inquisition doesn't fill me with dread like it probably should.

I need their support, plus Rose spent most of the night talking to Gwen. What did she find out? Do I need to know? Or, more importantly, do I _want_ to know anything about them? Because they are _they_ , after all. A couple. Married by the sight of God and witnesses. 

I shut the door behind the last people to leave, then roll onto my back, finding Poe and Rose standing in the hallway, both sober, both waiting for....I don't know what. So I just shrug, the evening sinking into me and weighing me down.

"I still can't believe it," Rose says, shaking her head.

"Happy Housewarming to me," I murmur, wandering toward them. They part and let me through to the lounge, where I pick up a few cushions and chuck them on the couch on my way to the kitchen. 

I immediately pour myself a nightcap in the form of a large glass of wine, and take a long glug as I stare out of the kitchen window. 

"Well, that was all fun," I say seriously.

Rose clears her throat and comes to stand by one side, Poe on the other, like they're sensing my need for support. I look to each of them in turn and smile a small, hopeless smile. At least I have them....cause I honestly don't know what I'd do if they weren't here. 

"You okay there, treacle?" Poe's palm slides onto my shoulder and squeezes firmly.

"I'm fine, Poe." I say resolutely. "Honestly."

I shake my head to myself and finish off my wine, hoping that it'll knock me out and put me out of my own bloody misery. Both eye me doubtfully, and they have every right to. I'm not fine. Far from it, if I'm being completely honest and usually, I am. Lying has never been my strong suit, anyways.

I don't sound it, and I'm certain that I don't look it, either. My once stable, controlled existence has been rocked to the core, and I'm beyond scared that it'll never go back to the way it was before. 

I need it do go back to the way it was before for my own personal sanity.

No, that's not right. I was scared about the crushing connection that we had. Because as human beings with desires we _all_ want something we know that we can't have. Benjamin Solo the American just so happened to me mine.

Monday morning comes far too quickly, and I feel far from fresh going into my meeting with Lando and his contractor, Ben. I did a little research on his company last night and found that Benjamin Solo Contractors was formed by Ben himself back in early 2009, when he was only twenty-six. I mentally noted that makes him thirty-three today. 

He did manual labor for years as a builder, which would explain the stunning physique---a physique that he's clearly set on maintaining--before starting his own building firm that has gone from strength to strength. It was clear from what I learned that any architect should feel lucky to work alongside him.

Me? I just feel scared to fucking death. I've agonized constantly about how to deal with working together. I've quit Lando's project ten times in my head already, then reinstated myself quickly after.

The prospect of kissing this opportunity good-bye makes me feel empty and weak inside. But I'm not weak, and I'm not about to let a grown-ass man make me feel that way.

I owe it to my career to move forward. But more importantly, I owe it to _myself._ I've worked too hard for too long to quit now. 

Ben's the contractor. Just the contractor, and I'm not going to let his lies and deceit affect what I've worked my ass off for. So I put on a pale gray pencil dress, leaving my hair down and wavy, then gather Lando's file and get on my way to start my day. I call Rose as I walk to the Tube, hoping for a little pep-talk.

"I'm due to start a bikini-wax in two minutes," she says when she answers. "So let me just cut to the chase. How are you going to handle him during this meeting?"

"I'm going to pretend that I've never met him before Saturday night," I tell her, my voice now wavering from the sureness I'd found, just at the thought of doing so. "He's a liar and a cheat and, frankly, I hate his stinking guts. It shouldn't be hard to keep it business, should it?"

"Uh-huh, no hesitation, Rey."

"Right, right, it won't be hard at all," I address, my voice firmer this time around.

"Good girl." There's a hive of activity from down the line, and Rose curses a few times over the phone. "Shit! I just spilled hot wax all over the bloody place, I have to go! Good luck!"

I hang up, straighten my shoulders, and head for my meeting praying that when I enter I'll actually go through with my plans. However as I descend the stairs to the Tube, something tells me, I'm going to fail miserably in my efforts. My plan was to arrive early, get a coffee, and settle at a table before the men arrived, and maybe talk my nerves down, but when I walk into the bistro I find them both already sitting at the table at the far end.

They're talking, looking over some paperwork. And when I'm only a few feet away Ben slowly turns to face me, like he's sensed I'm close. 

My lungs shrink at the sight of him, my feet slowing as I fight to breathe. His straight expression doesn't clue me in on what reception I might get from him, and that alone makes me all the more nervous. 

_That chest, rippling above me, undulating as he drives into me steadily._ I jolt myself from my untimely flashback, and a dart of my eyes to Ben tells me that he hasn't missed it, his expression questioning. I take a deep breath and will myself forward towards them.

"Rey. Here, take a seat." Lando motions to the chair next to Ben, but I opt for the one at the side of the table instead. Not too close.

"Good morning, gentlemen," I greet then, smiling at Lando as I unloaded my files onto the table. "Ben," I say formally without looking at him. 

"Rey," he replies, just as formally, taking his coffee cup and lifting it to his lips. 

My eyes catch a slight tremble of his hand as I involuntarily follow the cup up to his mouth. I think of him drinking that bottle of Budweiser, his neck stretched, begging me to lick the column of his throat. _Bending me over the bar, his big hands on my hips._

"Super party over the weekend!" Lando chirps, snapping me back into the bistro. Ben is watching me watching him. 

I shake my way back into my meeting, telling myself to concentrate, to not let him distract me. "I agree, it was. Thanks so much for coming." I smile, thinking I never want to think about that night ever again.

The waiter approaches and I order a large latte, declining the offer of any pastries. I would never be able to hold anything down; my stomach is somersaulting repeatedly, and I'm getting annoyed that I can't control it.

Lando then looks down at his watch. "I have to be at an auction in thirty minutes, so let's get this schedule agreed upon." He motions to my files. "Do you have the revised drawings for Ben?"

"I do." I pull them out and push them across the table to Ben, avoiding making eye contact, which is hard when I can feel him staring at me. This is so strange. I spent a night in a hotel with this man, the most amazing night of my life, and now I'm acting like I've never set eyes on him, let alone his naked body. 

All this formality, this distance, isn't coming naturally to me. Being consumed by Ben felt _so_ right and easy----looking at him, admiring him, talking to him, listening to him.

It all felt so natural. "The details of the French roof manufacturer are on there, too." 

"Thank you," Ben says, unfolding the first drawing and scanning it over. "I'll take them back to the office and go over them with Dopheld. He's my site manager, who'll be overseeing the build, by the way."

"Good to know," I make a mental note of Dopheld's name.

"We have various machinery arriving tomorrow so we can start clearing the site." Ben starts folding up the drawing and places it on the table with the others, finding my eyes and locking stares with me. "We anticipate a few weeks to strip it back to the bare bones."

 _Strip. Bare._ My skin starts to prickle with heat, and I glance away from him, making notes down on my pad. "Okay. So you'll have the site pegged out as per my drawings by---"

"Week three," Ben finishes for me, pulling my attention up. He smiles, and I have to a take breath and force my attention back down to my notepad. 

I power on. "And by week four, you'll have---"

"The trenches for the foundations dug out."

My pen falters across the page. "Good," I say quietly. "And the concrete slab for the floor should be complete by---"

"Week five," Ben murmurs.

I close my eyes briefly and will him to stop being so on the ball with things. It's a perfect scenario for an architect and contractor to be so aligned when it comes to a project, but now, between Ben and me, it isn't helping me hate him. He's doing a perfect job of being daft irritating. 

"That was what you were thinking, wasn't it?" he asks, almost pensive.

My smile feels rather strained. "It was."

"Good." Ben gets out a diary out of his briefcase and opens it up to a planner, presenting it to me and Lando.

Then he takes over, detailing the schedule and phases of the project carefully from week five, running through a timeline for the next few months to completion. I hate that every step, every tiny detail he was written down, is all where I'm at in my head with his project. Every time he hesitates, I'm able to finish his sentence, and we're already talking about slight modifications to make the plans even stronger. We're in perfect sync. 

Our sweaty bodies flash through my mind, moving in tune, our hearts beating in time. I jerk my chair and clamp my teeth on the lid of my pen.

In perfect sync. In _every_ way. I focus on what Ben's actually saying as opposed to the sound of his voice saying it, fighting not to allow the deep timbre to get underneath my skin. Fighting so hard not to allow my mind to morph what he says into other words---words that he said to me on that night.

I'm not doing very well---too many memories, now potent and vivid, running circles in my head. Keeping my eyes off his hands, too, as he talks with them, is a killer.

A total killer. Those hands have explored every part of my body. So has this mouth. _Stop it!_

"Can I get a copy of that, please?" I ask him, my voice shaky as I point to the schedule in his diary. 

"Sure." Ben looks at me, cocking his head a little to the side. "I'll send a scan of it later today. I just need your e-mail first."

Biting down on my lip, I pull a business card from my bag and slide it across the table, trying not think about the fact that I've just given him contact detail he could need for me. 

"So we're all on the same page?" Lando also, rising from his chair. 

"We're on the same page," Ben confirms, I look across the table at him, reading between the lines. "Aren't we?" he asks, swallowing hard. "I know where I stand."

He knows where he stands. I read his code message loud and clear. "Same page," I confirm on a gulp, feeling relief course through me as I silently thank him for not making this harder than it really needs to be. He nods knowingly, snapping his diary shut. 

"Great!" Lando swipes up a huge art folder. "I just know you two are a match made in heaven!"

He breezes out of the bistro and I stare at his back in utter shock, and Ben coughs over his coffee. He looks at me, his face expressionless. "A match made in heaven, huh?"

I don't even allow myself to fall into the depths of his twinkly eyes. "Professionally wise, maybe?" I say, getting my bag from the back of my chair, resisting the urge to point out that we can't possibly be a match made in heaven....since he's married. 

My stray thought turns my stomach as I unzip my slouchy leather bag to retrieve my purse. Ben pulls his wallet from inside his pocket. "Put your money away, woman. I'll get this."

He reaches over and halts my hand from going into my bag, and I jump so much in my chair actually shoots back. Ben retracts his hand in shock.

"Sorry; I didn't meant to make you jump." 

He sounds sincere, and I feel utterly stupid. But his touch. Oh God, his touch. "Thank you for the coffee, Ben," I say, getting to my feet but keeping my eyes on the table.

"No problem. Can I give you a lift anywhere?"

I actually laugh. "No, but thank you for the generous offer. I must really be going now." 

"What's so funny?" He stands, towering over me, and I get another onslaught of flashbacks as a result. He's naked, looming over me, asking if I'm ready for him.

I immediately squash my thoughts and take a deep breath. "Nothing." I had my drawings to him while keeping my gaze, far, _far_ away from his. "Don't forget these."

Slowly, _too_ slowly, his hand lifts and takes them from my grasp. "I promise to keep this strictly business, Rey," he tells me candidly. 

"Good. I'm glad to hear it." Mt voice is shaking terribly, adrenaline racing through my bloodstream and making my heart pump crazily. I can still feel him staring at me, and as hard as I know it's going to be, I tell myself I mustn't _ever_ look at him.

At least not in the eye. I brush past him and pace out of the bistro, feeling his stare on my back the entire way. He might have promised to keep it strictly business, but that doesn't stop my entire being from responding to him like it does. And it doesn't erase the memories away, either. 

* * *

When I get back to my studio I fire up my laptop, fetch a coffee, and get on with submitting a planning application and e-mailing building control before sifting through piles of e-mails and cleaning up my inbox. I sip on my coffee and jot down notes in my diary as I go, confirming a few potential client meetings. The weeks ahead are full-on, and I'm relieved. I need to keep busy.

_Keep busy, Rey. Just keep busy. Focus on the project, nothing else._

As it approaches midnight my eyes are beginning to glaze over. I flag my final e-mail and guide the curser to the top right-hand corner to shut my e-mail down, but the ping of a notification stops me dead in my tracks and a new message icon appears in the bottom right-hand-corner.

My heartbeat dulls to an uncomfortable pulse as the sender's name glows bright up at me. 

_ben.solo@solocontractors.co.uk_

I move away from my laptop slowly, placing my mug on the desk and my hands in my lap, trying to psych myself up to open it. It's just a damn e-mail, it's just words. I click the message open. 

_Rey,_

_Please find attached the schedule of works detailing the four phases of Lando's project. Any questions, just shout. Dopheld and I have been over the revised drawings. He has just a few questions. Are you available to meet him on site tomorrow to go over them?_

_Best,_

_Ben_

_CEO, Ben Solo Contractors._

I sit back down in my chair, reading over his e-mail once more. It's nearly midnight. I question what he's doing working this late until I remind myself that I'm working, too. His e-mail is form. So formal. Just how it should be, so why is my heart thrumming nervously?

My fingers shake when I start composing a reply, making me constantly hit the wrong over and over again. "Damn it," I curse myself, pulling my hands away and taking some steadying breaths. This is so stupid.

_Ben,_

_Many thoughts for the schedule. I'm available at 10:00 if that suits?_

_Regards,_

_Rey_

_A.R Architects Ltd._

"Best"? "Regards"? It's utterly ridiculous considering what Ben and I have done together. We've explored every inch of each other's bodies, shared the most intimate parts of each other, and here we are acting like it never happened. My e-mail dings again.

_Rey,_

_I'd ask what are you doing working so late, but that wouldn't be keeping it strictly business would it? Tomorrow at ten is good. I'm currently looking over the landscapes' designs for the garden area. I found these giants glass cases online (link attached below) and thought a few hung on the brick wall adjacent to the extension could look amazing, and they'd complement your proof perfectly. Let me know what you think before I put forward the suggestion to Lando._

_Best,_

_Ben_

_CEO, Ben Solo Contractors._

I raise a sardonic eyebrow at his light joke and click the attachment open, immediately thrown back by the beautiful simplicity of the wall-hung glass cabinets with aluminum trims. "Wow," I murmur, scanning the details and dimensions. 

_Ben,_

_Right. Regarding the glass cases, I love them, and I'm certain Lando would too. A great idea. I'll see Dopheld on site tomorrow._

_Regards,_

_Rey_

_A.R. Architects Ltd._

I close down my laptop and take myself to bed, happy that I got through the rest of my day in one piece and managed to keep it business. But no matter how professional I act on the outside, on the inside I'm still fucking chaos over Ben Solo.


	9. Chapter 9

I'm completely a bag of nerves when I arrive on site the next day. I've psyched myself up for this meeting all night, telling myself that I can do it. I can do it. I'm meeting Dopheld. Not Ben. I just hope I get to deal with him for the most part of the project.

Lando meets me as I'm walking up the sweeping driveway, a broad smile on his face. "Here she is, the lady of the year," he says, collecting his briefcase from the steps leading up to the building. "I have a meeting to get to, so I'll leave you with Dopheld."

He points past me, and I look back to see a tall, dark-haired guy in a high visibility jacket guiding a skip lorry off the road. My heart jumps a few beats when I recognize him. 

"Dopheld," I parrot back to Lando. 

"Yes, he's Ben's right-hand man."

He's also the guy who was with him in the bar the night I met him---though I must have mistaken him with some flaming red-head named Hux--then again I was too drunk to notice anything, really. Perhaps that was just another friend of his in the company. "Okay," I breathe, trying to settle down my building heart. "No Ben?" _Please say no!_

"Not that I know. Dopheld's up to speed on things, so you should be able to get on. Oh, and watch your back." Lando takes my arm and leads me to the side, out of the way of reversing lorry.

Dopheld slaps the side of the wagon when it grinds to a complete stop then makes his way over to me. I know he's recognized me when he cocks his head. "Hey, I know you."

I manage a smile, my mind whizzing. Has Ben told him the sordid details, or am I just a girl he was chatting with at the bar? I don't know, so I wipe my face for all guilt, or I try and turn on my professional switch--the one that's getting harder and harder for me to find. 

"Hey, I'm Rey." I offer my hand and he takes it, giving me a solid, manly shake.

"Nice to meet you. Officially, anyways," he adds. His friendliness tells me that he has no idea about Ben and me, which would make sense, since he's _married_ and all. 

Lando smiles and makes off down the driveway. "I'll leave you guys too it, then. Call me if you need me."

"Have a great day," I call, going to my bag to get my car keys. "I just need to grab my hat and vest right quick and then we can get stared."

Dopheld wanders over to a nearby car and pops the boot. "Here, you can use these." He pulls out a high-visibility jacket and a matching hard hat. "Probably a bit on the large size, but they'll do you for now."

"Thanks." I accept and put them on. "So you have the drawings?"

"Yes, I've just been going over them." He motions to the entrance of the derelict building that will soon be transformed into a beautiful art gallery. "I have a few questions. Shall we?"

"Sure." I start to make my way up the steps to the front door with Dopheld, stopping at the top when I hear the wheels skidding up the gravel of the driveway.

Both Dopheld and I turn to investigate, but I bet it's only _my_ heart that punches its way out of my chest when we see where the noise is coming from; a black Audi S7 with Ben behind the wheel. _Oh fuck me sideways and backwards._ I swallow and immediately start breathing through my rising anxiety. Be calm. I tell myself. I'm here for a reason, and it isn't for Ben.

He seems to sit at the wheel forever, staring forward at me on the steps. 

"Finally," Dopheld mutters. "Is he going to sit in there all bloody day and watch us or something?" Dopheld's rhetorical question goes right over my head, my files beginning to jump in my hands. 

Yet when I know I should be moving onward, going inside and getting on with things, I find my legs simply will not cooperate with me. Ben eventually lets himself out of the car. He looks anxious. A bit disheveled. And beyond the stoniness of the expression is something else. Stress, perhaps.

My conclusion is only reinforced when he shoves a frustrated hand through his thick, dark hair and slams his car door shut rather violently. Something is wrong. I can tell just by his body language, but I don’t dare ask. Besides, it’s not of my business. 

"For fuck's safe, not again," Dopheld's mutters, marching over to him.

I rip my eyes away from Ben's and look over at Dopheld's, seeing his tight, piss-off jaw. _Not again?_ What does that even mean? Ben takes a few steps towards his right-hand man, yanking on his suit jacket as he does, his dead dropped. There's too much distance between us for me to really hear Dopheld's hushed whispers, but it's plain to see that something definitely wrong with Ben. Is it me?

I back up, beating down my curiosity, and make my way into the building. _Work. Just get on with your work, Rey._ I find the old table where Dopheld has the drawings laid out and stare down at them, if only for something to do.

"Sorry I'm late," Ben's voice hits my back and makes every hair on my neck stand up on end. "Won't happen again."

"You didn't say that you were even coming today." I keep my eyes cemented on the drawings, dropping my bags to the floor next to the table. His tan brogues appear in my downcast vision, the same shoes he had on that fateful night. I close my eyes and work hard to calm myself own.

"I didn't," he replies. He knows perfectly damn we he didn't.

"D-Does Dopheld know?" I need to find out what exactly I'm dealing with her.

"No."

I breathe out my sigh of relief the sound of heavy boots on the concrete behind me. "Okay, let's---" Dopheld cuts off when his phone starts ringing. "Yes? Shit, yeah, I'll be right out," He curses under his breath. "The scaffolders are here and the skip wagon is in the way. You guys crack on without me. I need to go teach people how to drive."

My eyes spring open, finding a pair of familiar hands spread on the table before me. Big, capable hand. Hands that handled me with confidence, authority and care.

I look up, straight ahead at the brick wall in front of me, rummaging through my mind for anything work related to say. There's nothing. No words, only mental visions of that night. This is supposed to be getting easier, not harder!

"How are you, Rey?" Ben asks quietly.

"I'm great, thanks," I chirp, way too over the top. I scold myself for sounding so completely fake. "You?" Why would I even ask him that?

"Struggling on." His arm brushes against mine, and I jump from his touching distance, pointing at the drawing nearest to me.

"I like you to go over these numbers with me." I'm not even pointing at numbers. I'm pointing at the damn window spec.

Ben reaches forward with a finger and places it next to mine near the window, and I hear him inhale deeply, There's a long, uncomfortable silence, until Ben finally breaks it. "These drawings really amaze me, Rey. Dopheld and I were marveling over them yesterday."

"Thank you." I brush off his compliment and straighten, turning into him and looking past his shoulder. "Shall we talk the site? I have a few questions too."

"Why can't you look at me, Rey?"

My eyes drop, and I scream at him inside my head to keep his word. He promised. He promised to keep this strictly business! "It's this way," I say, passing him and making my way to the rear of the building. "There's a tree that I'm worried will jeopardize the glass roof."

"Right." Ben sighs and his footsteps kick in, following me. 

When I exit the existing old uPVC patio doors, I point over to the colossal horse chestnut tree that canopies one quarter of the outside space. Ben wanders around the tree trunk, looking up.

"Have we even checked if this thing has a preservation order on it?"

"It hasn't," I confirm. "But obviously, we should avoid chopping it down if we can. Though to get the full impact of the roof, we need to loose some of the branches at the top."

"I happily agree." Ben smooths a hand down the bark of the tree, and my gaze follows it, my damn body responding like it's feeling his touch all over again. I look up and catch his eye but quickly look away, knowing he's reading my mind. "I'll call the tree surgeon in," he says quietly. 

"Thank you."

"No problem. We should also be mindful of the roots when we dig down from the footings of the extension. She's on hell of a beast---I mean, one hell of a tree." Ben looks upward, stretching his neck.

I wince and immediately look away but dart my eyes straight back to his throat in a double-take, squinting. What's that mark on his neck?.

"So how we doing over here?" Dopheld appears, getting Ben's attention so he lowers his head and I lose sight of a blemish. Or was it a shadow? 

"We need to keep an eye on these roots, man," Ben says, stubbing the toe of his shoe on the trunk. "And we need to call in the surgeons to get rid of a few branches at the top."

"Got it," Dopheld confirms. "Can I borrow Rey for just a moment? I have a few questions about the steels."

_Yes! Please borrow me! Get me away from him! Get me as far away from this beautiful man as quick as possible before I do something incredibly stupid!_

"Sure thing," Ben says softly, but I'm walking back into the building before I get his go ahead. And I can still feel his fiery stare on me the whole damn way, raising my temperature higher and higher.

"Is it just me, or is it really warm out here today?" I ask Dopheld's back, pulling at the sides of my heavy visibility jacket.

"It's just you." He laughs and points over to a wall splitting two rooms. "This here is the supporting wall."

"Right," I confirm. "And the wall on the next floor is, too so we need a pretty hefty steel beam in there. The calculations are on the drawings. I suspect we'll need to get it specially made or custom." 

"I'll speak to the fabricators as soon as possible." Dopheld reaches into his pocket and pulls out his card. "Here, you'll be needing this."

"Perfect."

"And this," Another card suddenly appears, held between the fingers of Ben's big hand.

"Thank you" I take it without looking at him and slip them both into my trouser pocket. 

"It's going to look amazing. Simply, amazing," Dopheld remarks. Any other time I would feel a sense of pride, but right now I'm riddled with so much apprehension to feel anything else. 

"Lando's filled you in on the roof situation, has he?" I ask.

Dopheld's laughs. "Yes. You're one brave woman. I have to admire that. If that roof arrives with one chip or crack, this whole project will be knocked completely off schedule."

"I do have a quick question," Ben steps forward, and I can't stop my eyes from meeting his. The soft caramel I remember is clouded and dull, not sparkling and glittery like they once had been. He's definitely suffering here, and I get no pleasure from it. Because, like him, I'm suffering, too.

"What?" I ask tentatively, my head spinning with all the questions that are probably on his mind, none of them work related.

He then lifts a heavy arm and points at my torso. "Can I have my coat back?"

Dopheld starts laughing, and I tense up from top to toe, looking down at my front. "Oh, it's yours?" Quickly shrugging the coat off, I then hand it to Ben on an awkward smile.

He takes it slowly, and then his arm starts to life toward me. I find myself discreetly pulling back, my stare following his outreached hand as it moves toward the top of my head. What on earth is he doing?

"And this," he says quietly, taking the hard hat from my head.

I let my tense muscles relax as he pulls back. "Thanks for letting me borrow them." 

"I didn't," He swings his coat on, stilling when he's shoved one arm through the sleeve, his face lowering to the collar a little. He almost scowls, and I know that it's because he just got a waft of my girly perfume lingering on the threads. "Dopheld did," he finishes looking over at his partner like he hates him. 

I have a feeling that coat will be going on a super-hot wash to get rid of my lingering scent the moment that Ben gets home. Maybe even in the trash-bin. Arranging the collar, he flexes his neck, and I see it again. The marks. But this time I'm a lot closer, and I can see there are four perfect straight lines. Scratches?

"What on earth have you done to yourself?" I ask him before I can stop myself, my hand lifting to his throat to touch gently below one of the red claw marks. 

Ben freezes, his his wide burning into my concerned ones. It's silent for a few tense seconds; not even Dopheld says a word. "It's nothing that need concern you." Ben then moves away from my touch and back over to the drawings. "Do we have the bifold door spec on here, too?" he asks.

I look over at Dopheld, my arm quickly dropping back down to my side again. His narrowed eyes turn to me, and he shakes his head, his lips in an angry, straight line. "Bottom right hand corner, mate," he answers for me.

"They've changed. The drawing I have clearly states five meters wide."

"Lando wanted more light," I say quietly, my head spinning. What's happened to him? 

"Get them re-quoted as soon as possible." Ben orders shortly, and Dopheld nods. "I'm sorry, but I have to go now. I have somewhere I need to be."

Without so much as a second glance, Ben storms out, leaving both me and Dopheld standing in awkward silence. I know that it's not my place to ask, and I know I really shouldn't, but---

"Don't ask," Dopheld grunts, marching off after Ben. 

I remain right where I am for a few moments, stunned and quiet, and once I've finally found the will to move again, I do so on heavy feet, collecting my bag and files and making my way out to the front. Ben's car is still in the driveway, him sitting in the driver's seat, the door open with Dopheld leaning in. Although, it's quiet, I can see strong words being exchanged, and Dopheld puts his hand on Ben's shoulder.

It's more of a reassuring gesture, one that gets my curiosity raging more, no matter how hard I try to beat it back. I stand there, quietly observing while they talk, Ben's head getting lower by the second.

Until his eyes shoot up and catch me watching him. His stoic expression and his hard stare make it nearly impossible for me to move. 

I hold his eyes, as he holds mine, electricity sizzling between our distant bodies like they're almost touching. I see it all again, every second from that night, in clear, vivid detail. I start to breathe slowly, seeing Ben's chest rising and falling, too.

It's only when Dopheld moves back that we both snap out of our trances, and Ben grabs the door, yanking it shut. He practically wheel-spins off the gravel, leaving me with a racing mind and Dopheld shaking his head in despair as he marches back toward the building.

"Is everything okay?" I ask as he passes me, unable to hold back my misplaced concern. I might not care for what's going on between me and Ben right now, but I still care about him as a person. I concerned for him and his well-being. Those scratch marks didn't just appear on his neck by accident.

"Personal problems, none of which concern either of us," Dopheld grunts, disappearing through the door. 

* * *

As I roll into suburban hell early on Wednesday evening, I spot my dad on the front lawn trimming down his shrubs. The garage door is open and his old Jaguar is sitting in the drive, sparkling like new despite being over twenty-some years old. As I pull up at the bottom of the driveway, he looks up and immediately frowns at me.

"Don't just plonk it there!" he calls, waving his shears over his head like a madman. "It makes the cul-de-sac look untidy!"

I just roll my eyes and throw my arms up into the air. "Then where the bloody hell should I park then, dad, God forbid if the neighbors don't catch a glimpse of your stupid car?!"

He huffs and puffs and stomps over to his Jaguar, gently patting the hood as if I had personally insulted it. "You can park behind Jerry."

"Jerry the fucking Jag," I mutter, ramming my car into first and speeding up the driveway.

My Dad's face is a picture of sheer horror as I screech to a complete stop just inches away from the bumper of his most prize possession. I jump out, just as my Mum comes dashing out of the front door, an apron wrapped neatly around her waist, protecting her flouncy skirt.

She has a mixing bowl and a wooden spoon in her grasp. "Hi there, Mum!"

"Rey, darling!" she sings, delighted to see me.

I shut the car door and pass my father, who's still staring down at the bumper of his Jag, like he's worried my filthy Golf might stick it's tongue out and smear the sparkling paintwork on purpose. 

"How are you?" I ask, kissing her cheek gently as I pass her on the doorstep.

"Wonderful, darling!" She follows me into the kitchen and the smell I thought I'd be glad to see the back of when I lived here invades my nose. I stop and inhale it all in. 

"Roast chicken," I breathe.

"You know how your father loves his roast dinners, darling." She places her bowl down onto the countertop and brushes her hands down her apron. "It's literally an all-day affair preparing the bird and mixing the batter for his Yorkshire pudding." She rolls her eyes like it's an inconvenience to her. I honestly know why. She thrives on faffing around him.

"I'm starving," I say, flicking the kettle on. This is exactly what I need. One of my mum's home-cooked dinners. Good, old-fashioned, comfort food.

"Good!" she says. I've made her day. Now she has two people to faff over. "And I did a crumble!"

My mouth instantly waters. Mum's crumble is the nuts. "I simply can't wait!"

She looks at me, slight suspicion in her eyes. "Darling, you look....stressed."

I lift my files for her to see. "Work," I lie. I don't get stressed out with work. I love work and here lately, it's been the greatest distraction. No, I get stressed out by handsome married men who neglect to mention that they're _even_ married in the first place. "Mind if I load up my laptop at the dining table?"

She smiles, losing her suspicious look in a second. She's so easy to fool, wrapped up in her perfect little ideal world, baking and faffing over Dad. She'd pass out if she knew what her daughter has been up to. 

Adultery. The ultimate fucking sin. The word makes me shiver when I think about the acts I've committed. 

"I'll clear it for you." She's off into the dining room quickly. "Though, I'm afraid that you'll have to stay at one end so that I can set the table for dinner."

"Thanks, Mum. Do you want any help?" I ask, pulling down some teacups from the overhead cupboard and finding the teapot before I let my mind spiral into the realms of my dirty sins again.

"You make the tea, darling. And remember, your father likes half a teaspoon of sugar in his."

"God help me if I put just one granule in too much," I say to myself, measuring out a perfect half teaspoon and tossing it into the cup. 

"Pardon?"

"Nothing!" I sing, wondering how I've lived with them this past year. 

Then I wonder for the first time if Mum truly enjoys her life waiting on my father hand and foot. That's her sole purpose in life, especially since he sold off his firm and retired. Faffing. She had no aspirations, no career ambitions, except being a stay-at-home mum and housewife. Now that I'm all grown up, she passes the days away faffing.

Faffing around the house, faffing in the garden, faffing over my father, and faffing over me when I'm back at home. I look like my mother, the dark hair, the pale hazel eyes, but the similarities end there.

She faffs. She's wholesome. I, however, am not. No, I fuck handsome, dripping with sex appeal, married men.

"You should be utterly ashamed of yourself!" Dad barks as he wanders into the kitchen armed with his garden shears.

I jerk at his voice. Did he somehow hear my thoughts? Oh God, he knows. He knows what I've done! Beads of sweat---guilt sweat--start to on my forehead. They'll disown me.

"Your car is an absolute disgrace," he goes on. My hands hit the side of the worktop, holding me up. Shit, there I go again. I'm being paranoid. 

"If it's such a disgrace, you can wash it if you like," I breathe, gathering myself and finishing off the tea, handing him his mug. He eyes the tea with caution, and I know it's because my mother hasn't made it.

"You can drink it, Dad. I didn't put any poison it. Half the sugar," I confirm before he even gets a chance to ask.

He places his shears down on the side, making my Mum shriek in horror. "Oh Edward dear, good lord!" She then darts over and swipes them up in a single motion. "Now I'll have to clean the worktop again!"

Dad rolls his eyes and turns on his heels. "Well, it's been at least an hour since you last disinfected it, Alice. I'll be in the garage."

"Yes, dear," Mum chimes, now showing a shred of annoyance at my dad's grumpiness. I don't know how she does it. Since he's retired, he's been nothing but a right pain in her ass and a complete grouch.

"I'll be in the dinning room if you need me," I say, leaving Mum scrubbing the worktop.

I park myself at the dark wooden circa-1990s table and load my laptop, falling into thought as it fires up. A bad move, but those marks on Ben's neck are a constant thought in my mind, now accompanying Ben's face _and_ his wife's.

"You work too much, darling," my mother says, wandering over to the sideboard and dusting off a minuscule speck of dust from the shiny surface.

"Well, that may be true, Mum, but that's how people become successful in this modern-era."

"And what about the other things in life?"

"Like what?"

"Like finding a good, and suitable husband and having children of your own. When are you going to make a grandmother? I'm getting any younger here."

Grandchildren? I laugh to myself. More people for her to faff over. "Just give me a chance, Mother."

"Well, hate to be the one to tell you, dearest, but you're knocking on thirty's doorstep. Each year you are getting closer and closer." She nods at the drawing splayed out on the table before me, while I look at her incredulously. "Does all of this....really make you happy, Rey?"

I swallow hard and return to my laptop. "Yes, Mum. Very happy."

I hear her sigh, leaving me to get on with my work quietly. "Maybe when the right man comes along you'll think of something else other than work."

I slowly close my eyes, wilting in the chair. I'm already thinking of something other than work. Except, he isn't the _right_ man. 

After a rather pleasant dinner with my parents, I pack up my things and kiss them both good-bye, promising them that I'll pop over this weekend. I'm scrolling through my e-mails as I make my way over to my car, checking for any that are going to keep me up late tonight.

One immediately jumps out at me from the French company that is manufacturing my super-duper glass roof, and I frown as I open it, hoping the production is still on track as they promised.

"Oh shit," I breathe, scanning through the e-mail. "No, no, no!" I pull my car door open and throw bags into the passengers seat, then fall into the driver's. "How can you miscalculate the weight?" I ask my phone, diving into my work bad for my calculator and drawings.

I urgently punch at the keys, hoping beyond all hope that they've made a mistake in saying they've made a tiny mistake. If the roof is two-hundred kilos heavier than they've stipulated, it's going to throw all the engineers' calculations askew. 

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!' I slam my head against the headrest when the figure on my calculator matches the revised calculations in the e-mail. "You stupid, bloody idiots!"

I start my car and reserve down the drive quickly, kissing good-bye to my planned early night. A fully rested night of sleep had sounded so good, only now, I'll be lucky to get to bed around three o'clock in the morning. 

The story of my fucking life---nothing seems to be going right, anymore. Nothing. 


	10. Chapter 10

When I pull up at the project site, it's dusk and the driveway is now ram-packed with skips, scaffolding and materials, the two entrances blocked off with security railings. I park down the road and grab my things, my mind searching for a remedy to the spanner in my works. I can think of none, and the thought that I may have to kiss my glass roof good-bye makes me want to cry.

Of course, I immediately ignore the warning signs all over the metal railings telling me not to enter the site, and pull back one of the panels, squeezing through the gap. 

I let myself in, hurrying straight to the back of the building where the extension will be built from the back external wall. Flicking a light on, I get my drawings out and find the calculations I need while pulling up the e-mail with the new, actual weight on my roof.

It takes approximately ten seconds for me to conclude that my roof doesn't stand a chance of being held up by a proposed steelwork without another load-bearing wall to support it. And there is no other damn low-bearing wall nearby that I can tap into. My heart sinks, and I reach up to my forehead to rub away the instant headache.

_Thud!_

I jump and swing around, my hand moving from my head to my chest. What the hell wash that? My eyes scan the space, wary. "Hello? Who is there? Hello?"

_Thud!_

My heart immediately kicks up ten gears. Tension immediately begins to turn into fear. Oh _my_ God, what if someone broke into the site? What if they are still here?

_Thud!_

I reach for my mobile, moving warily towards the sound coming from just outside around the corner. _Shit, someone is really is out there! Fuck, do I call the police? What do I fucking do?!_

_Thud!_

The noise continues, and even, and I pull to a stop, wondering what in heaven's name I'm doing moving towards it. I should call the police and let them handle it, but just as I start to back up, ready to leave, I hear a light curse. 

The voice gets me moving back towards the sound, and I round the corner to find the door to the garden open. I lose my breath when I see what the source of the noise is, and I reach for the frame of the door for support.

Thud!

Ben slams the shovel into the ground and wedges his booted foot on the top, working it down into the soil before heaving the spade up and tossing the dirt aside. My whole body goes lax and my phone slips from my hand, hitting the floor at my feet. He swings around quickly and I'm nearly knocked down to my ass by the sight of him in dirty old jeans, his chest bare and sweating, and his muscled torso glimmering in the dusky light.

His black hair is damp, his face smeared with mud. _Oh, good lord have mercy on my soul!_

"Rey?" Ben moves forward, squinting, as if he's not sure he's even seeing right.

I gulp and look away from the enthralling sight of his naked torso and perfectly dirtied face. "I'm so, sorry, I-I didn't realize that anyone was here."

"I'm just....." His words face, and I look up at him again. "Digging a trial pit." 

"Don't you have employees to do that sort of thing?" I ask, thinking I'm sure none of them would look as good as Ben does digging a hole. Hell, he could wear a potato sack and still look damn good in it.

He glances down at the small pile of dirt he's built up, wedging his shovel in the ground next to him. "What can I say? I like getting my hands dirty every now and then?" he tells me quietly. 

"At eight o'clock in the evening?"

He looks up at me as I bend down to collect my phone. "Fine. So what are _you_ doing here?"

The scratches at his throat catch my eye again, thought they're fainter than they were yesterday morning. "A slight problem with the roof it would seem."

His gorgeous face furrows in confusion. "What sort of problem?"

"Oh, it's nothing." I dismiss his question and back up, knowing right then and there that I need to leave. It's tricky enough being in his company as it is, my willpower and conscience constantly being tested to the limit time and time again, but here now, when he's half-naked, sweaty, and his muscles are pulsating, it's beyond perilous. "I just needed to check some quick measurements."

"At eight o'clock in the evening?" he asks, a small smile on his face.

It's only a hint of the full beam that I've seen and loved, but it's still wonderful, nevertheless. Inviting. Reassuring. It makes it all too easy to confide in him.

"It's not really nothing," I relent on a sigh, silently questioning my need to tell him. I should be leaving. Walking out. Removing myself from this situation altogether. "The manufacturers have made a monumental cock-up," I shrug. "I'm trying to figure out a way around it, and I'm honestly not coming up with much."

Ben moves forward, and as a consequence I instinctually move back. He stops, regarding me closely. "Do you want to show me?"

"Yes." My answer comes without any sort of hesitation, stunning me, and he smiles, this time brighter, getting a little big closer to the blinding, signature Ben Solo smile. I find myself returning it, unable to stop myself. "Please," I add.

He drops his shovel and approaches me, and my damn eyes are glued to his the entire way, my stomach doing cartwheels, until he stops a few paces before me. "After you, then," he murmurs.

I quickly turn and head back inside, feeling him close behind me. My whole being lights up, and I close my eyes and silently pray for strength. Why did I accept his offer? I glance over my shoulder as we enter the huge back room, meeting his stare again.

"You should a T-shirt on," I say out of the blue, my thoughts falling out of my mouth.

"I should?" He looks down at his bare chest. "Why? Is it distracting you?" 

"I really don't want to do this right now, Ben."

"Yeah, me too." His teasing smile as he looks up through his long, dark lashes sets of a carnival of beats in my blood. I shake my head and return my focus forward, adamant that I won't feed his playfulness.

"Very cute, Solo."

"You're quite cute, yourself, Johnson."

His words, an instant repeat from that night, have my steps faltering too much for him not to notice. _Ignore it,_ I warn myself silently, pulling it together and concentrating on keeping myself that way, arriving at the table where my drawings are laid out and pointing with a shaking finger at the one detailing the roof. 

"They've miscalculated the weight of the roof."

His had appears and wraps around my waist, and my whole bloody body busts into flames. I flick mu eyes up to his, tensing every muscle in my body, fighting back the heat. "Why are you shaking so much, Rey?" he asks, squeezing my wrist.

"Because you make me nervous." I come right out and say it, and regret it just as fast. "I mean...." My words die on my lips. There is no going back from that. "Please, Ben," I beg of him. "Can we just stick to the business at hand?"

He slowly peels his hold away and rests his hands on the table instead. "Right. Business," he confirms, looking over the drawing. "How much have they miscaulated by?"

I silently thank him for being professional, even though he's openly chosen to ignore my request to cover up his gorgeous chest. The smell of him is potent this close, his body nearly touching mine. 

"Two-hundred kilos." 

He whistles, confirm the shit that I'm in. "Rey, I'm no structural engineer, but even I know that puts us both right up shit street."

I sag next to him. "I know." 

"This is seriously going to hinder the progession of the whole project."

"I know." I sag down some more. 

"And not to mention, we have a four-month deadline before Lando's launch. It's already tight as it is."

My hands hit the table and my hand stops. "Are you going to stand there and say anything that will make me feel better about all of this or just keep on tossing more and more bad news my way? I was rather hoping for a miracle."

He laughs, light and lovely. "I'm just a contractor, Rey, not a miracle worker."

I pout to myself, feeling more and more despondent by second. "I could honestly cry." 

My once blow-your-mind project is now just an average project, but without the roof. I feel like such a major failure right now, but Ben doesn't obviously see it, and if he does, he doesn't care.

"You look absolutely gorgeous when you pout like that," Ben says softly. 

My lips quickly un-pout themselves and pursed instead. "Well, you look gorgeous all the time, so," I look around me, startled. Who said that?

Ben laughs, and the sound seems to dilute my problem. For a second, everything else seems to fade and all that matters is listening to his laugh. "Keep it business, please," he teases.

"Hey, you started it, Solo." I shake my head at myself in dismay, thinking that I need to fix my brain-to-mouth filter, pronto. I feel him gazing down at my profile, and I peek out of the corner of my eye to him, assessing him, taking him in.

"Tu-shay, then, Johnson. We're even then."

"Why are you really here this late at night, Ben?" I ask, stalling on fixing that filter. I don't believe for a moment that he likes getting his hands dirty every once in a while. But there's something more to it, and though I damn myself for it, I can't help wondering more and more about Ben and his wife.

"I just needed to get out of the house for a while." His answer s very dismissive, and for once he doesn't look me in the eye, choosing to look down at the drawings instead.

His evasiveness just amps up my curiosity that much further. "To get some fresh air?" I ask.

"Yeah, something like that."

I stare at his profile, my hand taking on a mind of its own and reaching up to his neck, where the scratches seem to glow red at me. Ben catches my hand before it even lands on his skin, prompting my eyes to jump to his. The dullness of his eyes has regained a little bit of sparkle again as he holds my stare and my hand, gently working his fingers around mine.

I find my eyes taking in our tangle of fingers, the sight morphing in the tangle of our sweaty bodies rolling around in a hotel bed, our mouths kissing wildly, our moans drenching the air. I lose myself in those thoughts, my mind tunneling, my body feeling it all over again.

"You're back in the hotel again, aren't you?" Ben whispers, hunkering down to meet my gaze. "Reliving that night like I am every single fucking minute of my life,"

I can't talk. I can't move. The rush of feelings has paralyzed me, leaving me at the mercy of the man who's consumed my mind, body, and soul since he found me that night in the bar.

"I can see it all in your eyes, Rey." He moves forward, and the heat from his breath hitting my face spreads through my body like wildfire. He enraptures me, knocks all reasonable sense out if me. _His wife. What the hell am I doing?_

I swiftly pull my hand away, turning back towards the table and holding the edge for support. I stare down at the drawings, my head whirling. "Y-You promised me, Ben."

"Jesus, Rey, how the hell are you doing this? You make it look so easy." 

"That's because it is." I spit at the table. "Because there is nothing there for me, so please, stop trying to find something. You're wasting your time." I wince at my own scratching words, but I have to remain strong. 

Easy? He thinks this has been easy for me? The notion alone makes me so mad that I want to slap him across the face... _.hard._

"I'm sorry," he whispers, hurt tinning his apology.

His sincerity plays absolute havoc with my willpower. It's already painfully difficult to face him on a professional level. It's painful, but it's doable. I already feel consumed by my guilt, ashamed of myself. This is impossible. The undercurrent of our connection is still there no matter how hard I fight to disregard it. But it doesn't meant I can act on it. 

"I should be going now." I push myself away, all in a flutter, my work predicament forgotten and the urgency to remove myself from the situation now dominating in my mind. I grab my bags but forgo the drawings, knowing it'll take me too long to fold them all up.

I need to get out of here now before I let my attraction and want get the better of me. Before I cave under the pressure of his struggle, because it would be all to easy to fall back into his arms again. 

Yet the aftermath and backlash will be unbearable. I hurry away, keen to get myself home and talk some sense and some strength into myself.

"Rey, wait!" Ben calls out after me. I ignore his pleas and keep going, knowing that I'll be doomed if I let him make the attempt to stop me. "Rey!"

I hit the fresh air and take the stairs, but come to an abrupt half when Ben overtakes me and blocks my path. "Ben, please, don't do this." My breath is labored, not only because of my rushed escape from him.

"I won't, I promise." He steps back, giving me my space, his hands held up in surrender. "I'm sorry."

I fix him in place with a sure, cut expression. "The. Let. Me. Leave," I say slowly, watching as he breathes in deeply. After what seems like ages, he finally moves to the side to let me pass.

I hurry away, fighting against the magnetic pull trying to drag me back to him. The pull that's getting tougher to resist by the second.

* * *

I spot Poe outside the café and hurry over, landing in my chair with a thud. It's been a bloody day of technically drawings and calculations on my roof.....and the total head-fucking that is Ben Solo. I'm drained, my mind bent in more ways than one, and I didn't sleep a wink last night, memories of his words and of his bare, sweaty chest refusing to leave my mind. 

That vison along has plagued me all fucking night long. It still is, even now as I try to concentrate on my work. 

"Are you all right?" Poe asks, eyeing up my stressed form.

"My brain is frazzled," I sigh, dumping my bag down on the chair next to me. "Problem at work that I've been trying to fix."

"You work too hard, girl. When was the las time that you actually went on a holiday?"

I cast my mind back....and back.....and back....

"I rest my case." He shows the sky his palms on a shrug. "You look tired. Take some time off and relax. Do nothing. Your business isn't going to fall apart if you take a small break here and there."

But he's wrong about that. Completely wrong. It most definitely would fall apart. Besides, even if it wouldn't, going on a holiday and doing nothing means, I'd get to think too much, and I don't really want to be thinking right now, because there's only one subject my brain annoyingly wants to focus on. Sex. And it involving a certain hot male contractor.

"Maybe next year," I murmur, looking past Poe into the distance. 

"Oh no."

I snap out of my short daydream immediately and find Poe looking at me all, worried. "What?"

"That look. I know what you are thinking, Rey."

"It's nothing and no you don't." I laugh and start faffing with the spoon at my place setting.

"Rey...." My name is said on a long, warning exhale of air, and I laugh again, with a lack of anything else do to. Poe has known me my entire. I'm not fooling him. "Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell." I wave a hand in the air, feigning indifference, and pray he leaves it right there. "Work's just been crazy."

"And have you seen him?"

"Not really," I reply weakly, hating myself for not being able to sound more convincing. I'm far too tired to find the energy to be convincing.

Poe moves back in his chair slowly, eyeing me with the caution. "Please, tell me that you've not been there again."

I slam my mouth shut and avert my eyes away from him. "No." Though I haven't physically been there again, I have in my head, a million times, and that's making me feel just as guilty. 

"Well, I hope not, for your sake." Poe leans across the table, probably to ensure I can see with perfect clarity how stern his face is. "You know, because he's fucking _married!"_

"Will you be quiet?" I hiss across the table, my frantic eyes checking the vicinity, looking as paranoid as I feel. "I've not been there again, and I don't plan to be either."

Poe throws himself across the table threateningly, and I withdraw, worried. I've never seen him look so mad before. "I don't like where this is going, Rey. Is he pursuing you?"

"No, of course not," I lie, for fear of my lifelong friend taking matters into his own hands. He looks perfect cable of it right now.

"Are you pursuing him?"

"What?! No!" That's not a lie. I haven't. "I'm just working with him, Poe. It's kind of hard not to see someone when you're literally being forced to work with them."

"No one is forcing you to do anything here, Rey."

"Are you really suggesting that I should throw away my dream job just because some asshole led me on?" At that very moment, my phone starts buzzing on the table, and Ben's name flashes up at us. I reach and reject the call, stabbing at the screen of my phone heavy-handedly. I look up at my friend and his lips purse.

"I know you, Rey. I know when something is on your mind, and I know that it isn't work." He shakes his head, dismayed. "Why didn't you take that?" he asks, pointing at my phone. "If it's purely business, why?"

"Because right now I'm having coffee with you, that's why."

"He's married," he says simply, twisting the knife in even further. "You don't go there, Rey. You don't even think there!"

"I'm not, Poe," I grit my teeth harshly. "It's just work. Nothing more, I swear."

His face immediately begins to soften as he reaches over and takes a hold of my hand. "I'm just saying that you deserve more than that. Don't get yourself caught up in that shit. It won't end well, for either of you." 

I drop my head, even more exhausted than when I arrived here. "I called you for coffee and a catch-up. Not a bloody earache." I force a smile and shift my head so that I'm holding his, nodding my assurance. "It caught me off guard. The whole situation, but I'm fine, honestly. You know me." I look up when the waiter slides a coffee towards me. "Thank you."

"Should I have ordered you something a bit stronger?" Poe asks seriously. 

I snort, thinking that he most definitely should have. "Probably. How's working going?" I ask him. "Specifically, the new client?" I wag a cheeky eyebrow. 

My lifelong friend sniffs in the most blase way possible, toying with the napkin at his place casually. But just like Poe knows me, I know him, and this new client has clearly gotten under his skin. 

"It's all right,"

"That's it? Just all right?"

"I suggested she might need an extra session per week."

I laugh and take a much needed hit of caffeine. "Oh but of course she does, based on your better judgement."

Poe grins around the rim of his cup. He knows deepen down that I speak the truth. "Hey, I saw Finn yesterday by the way."

"Oh that's nice. Did you also tell him that you screwed his ex-girlfriend while you were at it?"

"No." Poe rolls exasperated eyes at me. "I've already told you this once before, Rose and I were a drunken mistake. It won't happen again."

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever you say. So what on earth did he want?"

"He wants to start training with me, if you can actually believe it? I couldn't myself."

I laugh sarcastically at this bit of news. "What, to get himself in better shape for the twenty-one year old whore that he cheated on Rose with?"

Poe just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "Hey, that's none of my business, doll." 

I'm laughing again, but this time on the inside. I really wish he'd adopt the same approach towards me about my own fuck-up. I look down at my phone and sigh. "How'd it get to four o'clock?" I ask the screen, bracing myself to get my ass back to my studio so that I can agonize over my problem some more.

And I mean the roof problem. I'm going to have to admit defeat soon and revise all my plans, and then break the bad news to Land.

"Four? Oh, shit!" Poe jumps up from is chair and throws a tenner on the table. "I have a session with some chap named, Charlie." He rushes around the table and smacks a kiss on my cheek. "See you later, doll."

"Have fun!" I all, gathering up my things and getting on my way. My phone rings three more times before I make it to the Tube--all Ben--and I reject every single call. After last night, avoiding Ben is top of my priority list.


	11. Chapter 11

I look up from the pavement as I near my house, my feet slowing to a complete stop when I see a black Audi parked up over the road. What the hell is he doing here? The driver door's open, and Ben gets out of his car, his tall body straightening to full height slowly.

I spend a few too many seconds taking him in, as if I need to remind myself of his sheer magnifications. The sleeves of his pale shirt are rolled up, his hard forearms on full display, as well as his throat from his open collar. I ignore him, pretend that he isn't even there, and focus on putting my front door between us.

"Hey." Ben's soft voice blazes a trail up my back, igniting panic as I get closer. I start frantically searching my keys in my handbag. "Rey?"

Where the bloody hell are my fucking my keys? Suddenly his hand is on my back and I whirl around clumsily, pressing my body into the wood frame of my door. "What do you want, Ben?" I blurt, sounding as scared as I feel.

Ben's head tilts, and he shakes his head as if trying to gather some patience with me. "Why haven't you answered any of my calls? Or replied to my voicemail?"

"I think it's best if I deal with Dopheld in the future."

His face takes on an angry edge, his nostrils flaring. "Why's that?"

"Because...." I don't want to sat it out loud. I don't want to admit that whatever is between us is every so slowly breaking me down and if I don't remedy it soon, I might go where no woman should go. "I just think it's for the best."

"Well, I don't," he replies shortly.

I look at him in shock. "Well, I hate to be the breaker of bad news here, Solo, but what you think here doesn't matter."

His brown eyes narrow so slits. "I've been trying to get hold of you all day because I think I thought of something."

"What?" I ask warily.

"A simple solution to your little problem."

"Which problem?" I blurt out without thought, making him recoil a little. Shit! I seriously, _seriously_ need to fix that filter of mine.

"I was referring to your roof problem," he says, looking down at me with immediate interest. "Why, is there another problem that we need to address?" He's goading me, trying to press my buttons and force a confession out of me---how I can't stop thinking about him, how my whole body burns with want from him. He can try all he likes.

"No, there's not." He knows as well as I do that we have more than construction problem here, and we need to sort it out quickly. If it can be sorted out at all. "What's your solution, then?"

"To which problem?" he asks seriously. 

I breathe in a patience-building shot of air. And maybe a resistance-strengthening one, too. "My roof problem," I clarify, keeping a face straight and serious.

"Oh, that problem," A sick smile ghosts his lips, a _knowing_ smile. 

"This isn't funny, Ben."

"I'm not laughing here, Rey." He points to his car. "I think I have a solution to our room problem. I'll show you."

I look over to his car, as wary as I should be, and back over to Ben. "Show me what?"

"A project that we undertook last year. A museum." I frown, and he goes on. "The structure wasn't adequate to take the roof."

My back immediate straightens at this response. "And what did you do to fix it?"

He sighs tiredly, stepping back to give me some much needed space. "Just let me show you, all right?" He's not begging, but he's not far from it. "I want to see your roof come to life as much as you do, Rey. Believe it or not, I want to help you."

I try to read his body language, try to figure him out, totally torn. I don't know whether he's purposely trying to entice me, or whether he genuinely wants to help me out. But there's only one way to find out.

"Fine. I'll follow you there," I say, hoping that I'm not making a huge mistake here. 

The drive takes a good twenty minutes, me tailing his black Audi in my Golf, and the whole time my mind is batting back and forth between my work problem and my personal problem. Every time I think work, though, Ben overpowers those thoughts and I find my mind reeling with so many unanswered questions. Questions about his wife, their relationship, the so-called rumors about her.

But as quickly as those questions pop into my head, they go when I remind myself that it's none of my business or concern _. Focus, Rey. Focus on work._

I pull up behind Ben outside an Edwardian-style building and join him on the pavement. "This?" I ask, looking up at the stone façade.

"It's at the rear of the house." He wanders ahead, leaving me to follow. "This way."

I make my way around the back of the building, keeping my distance, finding myself in a beautifully manicured garden. "This is a museum?" I ask him, taking a few steps down to the face of the building. 

"Dedicated to a local artist who died sometime in the 50s." Ben points upward, and I follow his indication to look at the roof. "It's not glass, but it's pretty hefty."

"And how did you support it adequately?"

Ben moves to a window and points inside. "Come here."

I make my way over, curious, and join him at the window, but my height prevents me from seeing through the raised glass. "I can't....oh!" I'm suddenly lifted from my feet and presented to the window. "Ben!"

"You see that back wall?" he asks, ignoring my panicked screech.

I try to numb myself to the feel of his big hands on my waist, looking through the window. "Yes," I practically squeak. 

"That was where the building ended. The original wall was too old and weak to sustain the pitched roof of he extension, so we basically demolished it and rebuilt it with a double-skin using reclaimed stone. It meant no support columns had to be used, so the space remained open."

"And you think we could do the same on Lando's project?" I ask, trying not to let my excitement get the better of me before we know for sure.

"We'll need to have the structural engineer confirm it, first." He then lowers me to my feet again, moving his hands away. I faff with my dress in an attempt to look unaffected but the fact this his big hands had me held at that window with absolutely no effort. "But I can't see there being a problem at all."

I lose the ability to contain my excitement, looking up at him. "Really?"

Ben smiles brightly, and this time it's that full-blown, gorgeous Ben smile. "Then you're right back on track, Rey."

Forgetting myself completely, totally overcome with relief and a ton of other emotions I dare not analyze, I launch myself at him, so bloody grateful for his help. "Thank you, Ben," I breathe, squeezing his shoulders tightly.

His strong arms lock around my whole body and lifted me from the ground, his face sinking into my neck. "Anytime," he replies, softly.

It would be appropriate to detach ourselves from each other right about now, yet neither of us shows any signs of releasing the other, both of us content to remain locked together. I can feel his heart beating, his chest pulsing into mine, and his smell, pure and Ben, takes over my senses completely. 

I begin to succumb to every intoxicating element of Ben Solo, feeling myself weakening where I'm held in his arms. 

"So is this how you do business?" he asks after an age, inhaling into my neck. "Because if so, we need to work together a lot more in the future."

I smile despite myself. "I'm sorry about that," I reluctantly break away from him, now avoiding his eyes. "I got....a little overwhelmed there, didn't I?"

"So you should." He folds his arms his broad chest, and I fleetingly wonder it's a move to prevent him from taking me in his arms again. "You're a very talented young woman, Rey. I wish that every architect that I worked with was as dynamic as creative as you are."

Every single time that Ben says my name, something inside me happens. Something electrifying. And when he praises me like he just did, it inspires me, drives me to want to do so much more. I swallow down the lump in my throat and point over my shoulder. 

"Thank you, Ben."

His eyes. Oh, his eyes. They say a million things, even if his mouth doesn't. I slowly turn and walk away, shaking. But not so much with excitement. More with the restraint not to run back into his arms, where for a welcomed moment my rocking world was steady again. When I make it to my car I drop into my seat and take a few steadying gasps of oxygen, looking back up to the building, waiting for him to appear.

But he doesn't, and I start to wonder what he's doing back there. What's he thinking. He's helped me. He found a solution to my problem, and his face when he saw my elevation could have knocked me to my ass. He was happy for me. He wants me to succeed. 

"Go home, Rey," I say to myself, turning the key in the ignition. The engines drones for a few seconds before going dead. "Oh, come on," I say, trying it again. This time, I get nothing. Not even so much as a peep. "Well, this is just bloody fantastic!"

I flop my head back in my seat just as Ben appears from the back of the building, his head dropped and his hands stuffed deeply in his pockets. He looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, and when he looks up and finds me still here, he cocks his head in question. I raise hopeless hands.

Making is way over, he opens my car door. "What's up?"

"It won't start up." I turn the key again, demonstrating the lack of life.

"Pop the hood for me," he orders. 

"How?"

He laughs lightly on a little shake of his head and reaches into the car, down by my legs. I hold my breath and quickly shift my knees when he skims the with his hard forearm. "Here," he says, flicking me a knowing look and puling the hidden lever.

I smile awkwardly, my mind blanking on me, as he slowly withdraws his arm. I only start breathing again when he's out of touching distance, making his way around to the front of my car. He lifts the bonnet, taking him completely out of my view. I get out of my car and stand far enough way from him so there can be no more touches accidental or not.

"Are you good with fixing cars, too?"

"I know the basics," he says, licking his finger and touching a metal knob. "Ah, thought so. Your battery is dead and I'm afraid that I don't have any jump leads with me."

"What on earth are jump leads and where can I get them?"

He laughs at me again, harder this time, and looks at me, thoroughly amused. "They may get your car started, but there's nowhere you'll find them around here at this time of night, sadly."

"Oh, okay. So what I do?"

"You let me take you home."

I immediately shoot him a look of disapproval. "Ben, I really don't think---"

He's claimed my hand before I even have a chance to argue further, pulling me towards his Audi. "It's a good idea?" he finishes for me. "Why?"

And fuck, my whole damn body goes up in smoke. I look down at his big hand wrapped around my tiny wrist, knowing I haven't a hope of yanking myself free. He pulls me to a stop and turns to me, catching me completely off guard. I hit his chest and jump back, zeroing on his open collar.

I mustn't look at his face. I. Must. Not. Look. At. His. Face. My tongue goes all heavy, but I manage to spit some words out at last.

"Fine, you can take me home."

"It wasn't even up for debate." He opens the door and literally pushes me down onto the passenger's seat. 

* * *

The tension in the small space of Ben's car is palpable. For the entire drive, I find myself fidgeting in my seat, constantly talking myself down from doing something really, _really_ stupid. Like driving across the car and taking what I know he's capable of. What I know he _wants._ Or saying something stupid, like how much he's on my mind. Like how hard I'm fighting my instincts to let him have me.

When he pulls up outside my flat, I literally dive out of the car and run up the steps to my front door, fumbling with the lock to get inside. My skin is tingling terribly. The need to run back to him is strong. 

_Married! Hello, Rey Johnson! Don't go there! Don't even go there!_

I slam the door and rush through to the kitchen, shrugging out of my coat and kicking my shoes off on my way, deciding a glass of wine is in order to calm myself down. Wine, and maybe a hot bath. 

No more work tonight. No more thinking....at all. 

"Motherfucker!" I screech, grabbing the kitchen door and virtually climbing up the wood. "Oh my God!"

I feel all the color drain from my face as I stare into a pair of beady eyes watching from the kitchen door---eyes that belong to the biggest mouse I've ever seen in my life. My heart is clattering is my chest as I grapple at the top of the door, keeping my feet off the ground. It's just staring at me, totally unperturbed, bold as fucking brass.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!"

We're in a staring deadlock, me hanging off the door, the elephant-sized mouse holding position in the middle of my kitchen floor. Then it moves suddenly and I scream, watching in absolute horror as it scurries across the kitchen floor and disappears behind a cupboard. 

"Mouse! Mouse!" I shriek, dropping from the floor and running at full pelt down the hallway to the front door. 

I throw it open, the wood hitting the wall behind it and crashing loudly, echoing in the night air. Then I stumble down the path and run across the road, as far away from my apartment as I can get. Mice! Oh, God, I fucking hate mice!

My breathing becomes rushed. I'm hyperventilating. I shudder from top to toe and glance down the street. What now?

"Rey?" Ben's concerned voice pulls my attention to my right, where he's standing across the road by his Audi. He's still here?"

I point to my front door. "Mouse," I mumble meekly. 

He balks at me. And then he laughs. I honestly don't know why. This is about as funny as a nasty trash. I look at him, releasing a scowl of epic proportions, and manage to see through my fear and irritation that he's absolutely in bits, his hands holding his stomach. He looks so young. Younger than I've ever seen him and he looks so fucking handsome. Delightfully so. 

The fact that he's simply here is enough to cause another meltdown. With his infectious smile and the sound of his laugh, I'm in serious, _serious_ trouble. 

Ben....and a mouse. Two meltdowns happening all at once will probably kill me. He looks at my shaking forms across the road, smiling brightly, his face alive with happiness, and my whole world starts spinning wildly out of control at the sight.

However, I'm screaming on the inside. Positively falling apart, and the mouse is only half the reason why. Ben, the mouse.....and that familiar sizzle of electricity bouncing between our bodies. He finally finds the will to calm his amusement, and realization dawns on his face. 

The scene, him standing on one side of the road, me on the other. Staring at each other. The tension. The need. The want. 

The awkward silence lingers painfully. I can't deal with it, but before I can even speak to move things alone, Ben does. "Where in the kitchen should I look?"

My relief that keep's this business, so to speak, is obvious. I exhale deeply. "I think it ran behind the cupboard by the double doors."

"Are you okay out here on your own?" he asks. I can see so many things he wants to say in his brown eyes, and I silently beg that he doesn't. 

"I think it's safer for me to stay out here and than it is in there with that horrid thing," I say quietly, knowing he understands the hidden meaning in my statement. A mouse in my apartment is enough to keep me out. 

Ben in my apartment, too, makes it the most hazardous zone ever. I remain where I am as he slowly makes his way up to the open doorway and strides down the hallway with no hesitation or caution. His back. Solid and wide. My fingers scraping into his flesh as he drives into.....

My hands come up and encase my head, my fingers clawing into my scalp like they can squish the thoughts. He's in my apartment. I turn away from my front door, looking up to the sky as I battle to stop my fortitude from disintegrating. This week has been fucking exhausting. I need it to be so that I can spend all weekend getting trashed and restocking on willpower quickly before I flake. 

Before I venture off into forbidden territory. It feels like hours of waiting. Hours of holding on to my conscience. Hours of remaining where I am keeping my thoughts in check. 

Hours of running through every reason why he's not to be touched. Thought of. Even admired. I wrap my arms around my body and turn back toward my apartment entrance, listening carefully for any sounds of loud bangs that will signal the demise of the mouse.

I hear nothing. I'm standing in the middle of the street, in a skimpy summer dress, not even any damn shoes on my feet. The temperature as dropped a little, enough to make me start shivering. 

Ben eventually appears in the doorway. "Gone," he says simply, but this news doesn't relax me like it should, because there's still another hazard looming.

"You mean you killed it?"

He nods, holding me where I am with his hard, hooded stare. "Thank you so much, Ben." I say quietly, studying him, definitely detecting that he's deep in thought.

 _Don't ask, don't ask, don't ask._ I need to get back into my apartment without engaging with him, which could prove to be tricky when he's blocking the doorway and looking like he has no intention of shifting to let me in. 

I take long, confident strides across the road, hoping he'll be wise and move before I make it to my door. He doesn't. If anything, he widens his stance, his body now completely filling the entrance.

"Thank you for your help, Ben. I really appreciate it more than you know," I say politely, forcing myself to look at him so he can see the resolve in my eyes. 

As always, it's a mistake, but I work extra hard to keep myself in check and disregard this lovely face--I'm failing miserably.

'Rey," he breathes. "I'm struggling so badly here."

"I'm not going this with you, Ben. I really am not." I swallow, pushing my way past him. He grabs me by the top of my arm and holds me firmly in place. "Let me go, Ben."

"If you want to forget that it happened, fine. But I can't. And I've already told you once already that I can't do that, Rey. I'm drowning here. I'm going out of my fucking mind, and the more time that I spend with you, the fucking worse it's getting. Listening to you, talking to you, sharing a passion with you that goes _way_ beyond the amazing time that we had in bed together."

"You have to forget it, Ben!" I yell, knowing anger is the only way forward. Be angry with him. Let it dominate me and rule me, because the alternative literally scares me to fucking death.

He the pushes me into the hall and slam's the door behind us, forcing me to back up. "No, Rey," he says, straight and even. "No," he repeats, moving one more step forward, except this time I don't retreat. Because I can't. "Don't ask me to forget, because I won't.....I can't."

Because he has me locked firmly in place with those brown eyes, and now they're back to their fully glory again. Sparkling, even if it's with anger. He reaches for his shirt and starts unbuttoning it before shrugging it off and throwing it to the floor, revealing the chest that's been haunting me at night.

I quickly look down at the pile of material my mind reeling. His chest. His perfect damn chest. "What the hell are you doing, Ben?"

"I honestly have no fucking idea, Rey."

He reaches for me and slides a hand around my neck, pulling me to him. Our chests meet, and my determination to repel him quickly vanishes under our unbreakable connection. Wrong-doings turn into rights. Conflict turns into a ravenous craving.

"I can't get you out of my head, Rey." His forehead meets mine, his palm massaging away the tightness in my neck muscles, softening me up until I relax in his hold. "I want you all over gain, and I can't even find the will to worry about how much more that'll make me want you." He breathes down on me. "I've played that night on repeat ever since. I've dreamed of holding you in my arms again. I've craved the sound of your voice, the feel of your touch, the softness of your lips on mine. I know that I shouldn't want you. But the truth is....I do. Nothing has ever made me feel this insane with need before. Nothing has taken up so much space in my head. I can't fucking help it, Rey." 

His brown eyes sinks into me, my heart steadying to an even thrum. His head starts to take mildly, his splayed hand moving up to the back of my head and fisting my hair. 


	12. Chapter 12

"And I don't want to help it, Rey," he growls. "I want you. And I don't fucking care how wrong it is." His clenched fist tightens, gripping my hair harshly. "I know that I've been on your mind since I've fucked you in every which way in that hotel room. So stop denying it. Don't insult me and tell me that you don't crave that amazing feeling all over again. I can see it in your eyes every damn time that I look into them. You. Want. Me. And I want you to want me."

Surprisingly, it's me who moves first. All me. I lunge forward and smash my lips to his, the magnetic force winning. His words winning me over. Ben Solo....winning.

My heart winning. I coax his mouth open with hard, hungry kisses. I've completely lost my mind to a craving far too powerful to fight off. And, like Ben, I don't care how wrong it is. We're lost to each other. Yet as he walls be backward until my back slams into the wall, I feel found again.

I cry out, and Ben moans. We're clumsy and desperate. He's pushing me up the wall with the force of his kiss, then he's rolling away, taking me with him until it's _his_ back slamming into the wall. It's the elevator scene all over again.

The atmosphere is sizzling....blazing hot. I'm on fire. He scoops me up in his arms, pinning me to him, and bridal carries me into my bedroom. I focus only on him. Only him and the return of feelings that I've fantasized about since that unforgettable night. All the guilt is abandoning me, and I let it, unprepared to let anything stop me from taking the forbidden. 

He lowers me to my feet, keeping our kiss up, and states to unfasten his trousers while I pull at the waistband, desperate to get them off him.

"Steady," he mumbles against my lips, considerably calmer than before, probably because he has me now. 

We're both on the same page. Neither of us prepare to settle for just that _one_ time. It made us insatiable. It's teased us. It's intensified the desire and the anticipation, because now we know what to expect. Now we know that our minds are going to be blown in the best possible way. 

Now we know that him plus me equals amazing. I simply can't resist him. I've tried; I've cried so bloody hard. I want him. No, I need him. Taking my grappling hands gently, he holds them between our bodies and breaks our kiss, making me reach up on my tippy-toes to try to maintain the connection. His brown eyes are glimmering brightly, full of want and desperation.

"I want it to be slow this time," he murmurs, pulling my dress up over my head and casting it aside. "I want to take my time and enjoy the fact that I have you again." Lowering his mouth to my shoulder, he kisses it gently, sending a million bolts of pleasure straight to my groin.

I moan loudly, my eyes closing while he works his mouth across my flesh. He slides his hands up my sides and rests them on my waist. 

"I made a promise to myself, Rey. I promised myself that if the Fates ever brought you back to me again, I wouldn't let you go." Listing me high to his chest, he carries me over to the bed, looking up at me, my hands still draped around his neck. "And now you're here."

Lowering me down, he pulls off my knickers and gets me comfortable on my back, and then rises to his full height, stand over me as he strips his legs of his trousers---taking his sweet merry little time about it, testing my patience. I've put the blockers on any thoughts that try to enter my mind. I'm frightened that the absent guilt and my conscience will return at any moment and stop me from taking him.

"Please hurry, Ben," I breathe, watching as he slowly reveals to me. I go lax on the bed, enraptured by the sight of him, my eyes making a slow journey across his skin, soaking up every tiny piece of him.

If there was any hope of me repelling Ben Solo, it's just been squashed. My mind is taking mental pictures of him and locking them away tightly. He melt-worthy, naked frame is poised right above me, his cock jutting from his groin, visibly throbbing. His chest expands and her rests a knee on the mattress, followed by a fist near my head to hold himself up.

Looking down between my thighs, he starts to shake a little, swallowing hard. For a fleeting moment, I worry that he'd had second thoughts, but then his other hand rests on the inside of my thigh and pushes it wide, encouraging me to open up to him. "Put your arms above your head," he orders softly, glancing up at me.

I obey him without question, despite needing to touch him and feel him all over me....in me. He reaches between his legs and takes hold of his cock, my eyes following with immense fascination as he works a few, slowly strokes across his velvet flesh.

A glimmer of pre-cum beads at the tip, and I lick my lips hungrily. "Watch," Ben whispers, circling the wet head of his cock across my sex, dipping into the drenched folds. I cry out, my body arching up violently. "Watch, Rey."

I start to moan as he rubs against me, spreading the wetness. "Ben!" I cry, forcing my arms to remain above my head. 

"Just watch," he affirms, and my eyes slowly drop between my legs, seeing his erection held firmly in his grasp. "Watch me sinking into you." He dips a little, pushing into me a fraction. "Because we both know how fucking amazing it feels when I'm buried deep inside of you."

Tormented whispers come thick and fast, my core convulsing wildly, screaming for full penetration. "Ben, please...."

He looks up at me, his eyes wild with want. "Tell me, Rey. Tell me how badly you want me."

"Ben!"

"Tell me, Rey." He withdraws and tactically swipes the slippery head of his cock from side to side across my over-sensitive flesh. I cry out, begging to lose the plot. 

Ben nods, acknowledging my desperation. "I just need to hear how badly you want me. Tell me and you can have me.... _all_ of me."

"I want you!" I scream, sweat beds springing onto my brow. "Ben, I want you. So badly. More than anything I've ever wanted in my entire life!"

"So then I'm not crazy?"

"No!"

"I fucking knew it." His jaw tightens as he levels up and advances, sliding into me with one long thrust. "Oh shit," he chokes, falling to his forearms, his eyes clenching shut. He's shaking terribly, vibrating all over me.

"Are you okay?" I ask, defying his request to keep my arms above my head, brining them to his shoulders and holding him close. He feels like he needs it. 

I hear him swallow, gathering himself. "I-I'm fine," he whispers, turning his lips onto my cheek and kissing me tenderly. "You just make me feel so alive." 

I can't help but smile, even if there's a tinge of sadness in it. Because when you feel alive, there's only one way to go. The scratches on his neck catch my eye and his wife's face starts poking its way into my mind. I swallow hard, my thoughts running away with me again.

"Don't think about it, Rey," he says, breaking into my reverie. "Please, Rey. Don't think about anything but here and now."

He finds my lips and kisses me slowly, swiveling his hips and grinding deeply, withdrawing and driving forward again. I suck in air and store it, holding my breath as Ben finds a meticulous place that soon carries me away from the dirt tarnishing the moment, proving that it really is possible. In his arms, under his ardent attention, it is possible. Our bodies work in complete harmony, like they know each others soul deep, our tongue lapping lazily. 

He rolls us and pushes me up on his lap, mumbling and shaking his when I grind down hard, feeling him hit my womb. Strong fingers dig into my thighs and hold tight, this cheeks puffing out as his brown eyes watch me riding him slowly.

One hand comes up and claims my neck, pulling me down to his mouth. I maintain my rhythm, circling my hips onto him, kissing him like there's no tomorrow. Fighting off the notion that there won't be is harder than I want to admit, because that would be facing my reality.

He's not mine. And I'm not his. I'm taking something that clearly doesn't belong to me. I absolutely _hate_ that feeling. 

"Rey, please," he growls, like he's reading my thoughts, pushing me over to my back and slipping back in just as quickly. His face is stern, his jaw tight. "Stop." He executes a perfect dive and holds himself deep and high, watching me unravel beneath him. "Focus on now. On this. On us. Just us."

I shout my frustration, my back bowing on the bed as I fight away the unwanted thoughts away. "Make me forget, Ben!" I yell, throwing my arms over his shoulders and clawing at his back, hiding my face in his neck.

"Damn it, Rey." His pace speeds up, dousing my tormented conscience with a pleasure like no other. My eyes spring open, my hips flexing up to meet his. "There she is," Ben murmurs, nudging my face from it's hiding place and slamming his mouth down to mine, swallowing down my moans.

Then without so much as giving me a split warning, he sinks his teeth into my bottom lip, he then pulls away and stares down at me with such longing in his eyes that I never knew it could exist in a man. 

"Your face is a fucking picture."

"Ben." I breathe, seizing the telltale pressure that's settling in my core and locking it down. "Faster! I need you to go faster! _Please!_ "

He picks up his pace and pistons back and forth, our lovemaking turning frantic as we both search for our release together. "Oh shit!" he yells, jacking himself up on his arms, getting more leverage behind his sharp, deep drives. His face is pouring with sweat, his black hair damp and matted to his face, his caramel eyes wide with wonder.

I can feel him expanding within me, the pressure getting too much for him to bear. Ben's head drops back, and he shouts to the ceiling, flooding my womb with his hot, sticky cum, even so that I can feel it slipping out onto my inner thighs, he then stills suddenly above me.

Then he jerks and the pulse of his cock, followed by a low, rough groan, signals that he's completely gone...spent. One deep breath in, and his face twists as he withdraws and slowly pushes forward, the carefully calculated move taking me into ecstasy with him. 

My legs lock up and I pull him down to my chest, tightening my inner muscles on slow, even pulls. Our moans are collective and full of fulfillment, and they stretch out for an age until both of our bodies go completely lax and we're heaving at each other, trying to catch our breaths. I feel totally overcome, almost relived that this time was everything that I remembered.

It was powerful, emotional, and mind-blanking. My thoughts sting. I shouldn't be so relieved. I should be panicking, because the thought of letting him go is about as painful as anything.

I sink my nose into his neck and tighten my arms around his shoulder, clinging onto him, It feels so natural for me, so right, and when he responds, sighing despondently and holding me strongly, hopeless tears escape and stream down the sides of my cheeks.

"Rey, stop," Ben whispers, sounding as overcome by emotion as I am. "Please, don't cry."

I shake my head into him, trying to rein it in, but I feel so fraught, unsure, and vulnerable. The feelings are so new to me, and I have no idea what to do with them. 

There's no doubt I've just increased the difficulty of my situation be tenfold. I know I should have resisted him, pushed him away and stood firm with my decision, but my integrity and morals down at the sight of him. My want for him, maybe even my greed, make it unbearably hard for me to reject him when he's near. Not that he's letting me.

I've fallen into a black hole of hopelessness and though I know I need to drag myself out before I lose myself in it forever, I fear I'll never be able to refuse him. I'm frightening to death that an addiction to Ben is rooting itself deep inside of me and I'm even more scared that I won't let anything stand in the way of taking what I can get.

Not my morals, not my inner subconscious….and not even his wife. The silence stretches for far too long, leaving nothing but quiet for me to torture myself with. 

* * *

I can walk away. I have the power to end this now. Yet my arms don't release him until he pushes himself up, peeling his body from mine and slowly lifting his hips. He semi-erect cock slips free and he rolls to his back beside me, leaving me feeling abandoned and hurt.

I glance across to him and find him staring at the ceiling, one arms splayed over his head, his other rest on his stomach. I want desperately to know what he's thinking. 

I also don't want to know, so before I let my curiosity get the better of me, I get up from the bed and go to my bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I look at my naked body in the mirror, reaching up to feel my damp cheeks. My nipples are still flushed pink with desire and the inside of my thigh is glistening with evidence of our combined release.

Lifting my gaze to the reflection on my face, I see despondency in my hazel eyes. I also see words springing into the air around my head. _Adulterer. Whore. Weak. Immoral. Heartless bitch._

My hands meet the edge of the sink and my head stops, unable to face myself. I don't know this woman standing before me. What have I become?

A light tap on the bathroom door interrupts my self-loathing thoughts that he knows my heavy head up. "Rey?" Ben's soft voice is evidence that he knows damn well what I'm doing in here. Beating myself up over this. Ripping myself into shreds. "Can I come in?"

The lump in my throat won't allow me to talk, so I nod like an idiot, even though he can't see me. It's beyond a stupid idea to invite him in, but stupid seems to be controlling me these days.

The door quietly and his beautiful head peeks around nervously, searching me out. His black hair is a mussed mess, his brown eyes still bright. It's been minutes since I last saw him, but it's like seeing him for the first time all over again. The thud of my heart, the rise of my body temperature. 

I stare at him in the reflection of the mirror, unwilling to look away. Or unable to. The understanding on his face nearly cripples me. He pushes the door all the way open and walks in with purpose towards me, turning me around and yanking me into his chest, hugging me fiercely.

Me emotions get too much for me to hold back. "This isn't me, Ben. This isn't who I am." I sob into his chest, finding some comfort in the smell of his clean sweat. 

It's something else that catapults me back to the first night that I fear will now haunt me forever until the day I die. Like I know _he_ will.

"It's not me either, Rey."

"Then why are we even here? Why are we even doing this when we know this can't be good for either of us?"

He then lifts me to his body and encases me in his firm hold. "Because I know it's exactly where I _should_ be, Rey," he whispers, almost solemn. 

My heart clenches in my chest painfully. I think every other person on the planet would disagree with Ben on that statement. He should be with his wife. Not here enjoying the splendors of good emotional sex with me, a complete stranger he met on a bar one fateful night, and that notion alone kills me. I don't know what's happening between us and that scares the hell out of me.

This is so crazy. He's still virtually a stranger to me, but the thought of not seeing him again is unbearable. The question, of _"what now?"_ hangs from tongue, but something stops me from asking. It's fear. 

"Come with me," he breathes, steadying me on my feet and taking my hand. "I need some caffeine and you need some cheering up." Leading me through my apartment, he finds his way to my kitchen without any direction and indicates towards the cupboard. "Mugs?"

I smile, trying to disregard how perfect he looks standing stark-naked in my kitchen. "Yes."

He matches my smile, pulling two down. "Now, ask me how I knew that?"

"You've been breaking in and rummaging through my all cupboards and drawers?"

He gives me a faint laugh, reaching for the cupboard that houses my coffee. "No," he says with a shake of his head. "But that is a rather intriguing idea, so thanks for giving it to me. But in all seriousness, I knew because that is exactly the cupboard that I would have put them in. And the coffee."

He reaches for the drawer where I keep my cutlery. "And the spoons are in here, right?"

"Right. And, amazingly, the milk is in the fridge."

He shoves the drawer shut with a jerk on his ass, tapping the spoon on his palm as he regards me. He takes one step forward. I take one step back. He smirks. I smirk. I move. He moves. Then he lunges forward threateningly, and I squeal as he seizes me, wrapping me in one solid arm and tickling me with his spare hand.

"Ben!" I gasp, bucking against him. It's futile; his weight and strength verses mine is always going to win. "Ben, stop!"

"Are you mocking me for having good cupboard awareness?"

"No. I love your cupboard awareness!" I laugh over my words, relishing his playfulness, his nakedness against mine, and the fact that he would have put the coffee in that cupboard, too.

I'm finally released from his torturing clutches and slapped on the arse. "Finish the coffee, gorgeous. I need the toliet." He strides out. "I bet I even know where you keep your spare loo rolls, too?"

I chuckle and finish off the coffees, before making tracks to find him. "Ben?"

"In here," he calls. 

I follow the sound of his voice until I'm on the threshold of my studio. I find Ben's naked body standing over my workbench, and I wander over to join him, finding him looking over the drawings for Lando's extension. Glancing up at me, he smiles. "Rey the architect."

I laugh softly, remembering him calling me that on the night I first met him. "Ben the Joker."

Ben laughs, too, his eyes sparkling. "Yes, but you loved my jokes."

I can't dent it, so I don't. "What are you looking at?"

"I'm just wondering why you chose bare brick for the internal wall of the extension is all."

"Lando's art is very modern. Almost industrial, in fact. The building itself is early nineteen-hundreds, and I just thought--"

"The contrast of old and new would be quite striking," he finishes for me, as if reading my mind.

"Yes, exactly that." My heart falls a little as Ben glances up at me, smiling mildly. 

"Great minds think alike."

"Great minds think alike," I counter softly, handing him his coffee. It's not only our bodies that work in complete harmony, but our thoughts, too. It scares me to think how perfectly this man is for me. How stimulating, beyond our sexual chemistry. 

Ben takes his coffee, seeming to fall into a daydream. I wonder if he's having the same thoughts as me. But I don't ask.

I do, however, ask him something. "Why, Ben?" I pull him from his daydreaming, and I don't have to extend my question. 

"Honestly" he asks, prompting me to nod. Ben frowns and spends the next few seconds sipping his drink. Something tells me he's buying some time, trying to figure out whether he _should_ be honest. "I just needed to let off some steam" he tells me. 

I nearly spit out my coffee, immediately forcing him to go on quickly with the rest of his story. Surely, he's kidding, right?"

"I don't mean getting fucked or anything like that. I mean getting fucked in the drunken sense. Just so that I could forget about...." He fades off and glances away from me, sighing as his eyes jump across my workbench. 

I slowly take a step back, studying his sudden despondent disposition. "Are you happy?"

"When I'm with you, I'm deliriously happy. I already told you that, though."

"You know I don't mean that."

He smiled, but it's a rather sad smile at that. "You meant with her? No, I'm not. I'm fucking miserable, but does it make the fact that I can't stop thinking about you acceptable?"

His question gives me a pause, despite the answer being very easy. Easy, yes, but incredibly painful. "No, I don't suppose so." I admit, looking away from him. Nothing about this would make this acceptable.

* * *

Within a second, Ben has removed my mug from my hands and has me wrapped in his arms, hugging me tightly. It feels so good, so comforting, like I'm not shouldering all of the guilt alone. I relax into him on a sigh, thinking how I could happily remain here forever.

"My phone," Ben mumbles quietly, reluctantly releasing me.

I hear the sound of his mobile ringing and watch as his naked back disappears through the doorway. I follow him back to the bedroom to find my dressing gown. Ben dips and scoops up his trousers, rummaging through the pocket and pulling out his mobile.

I already know who it is before he looks down at the screen and his body deflates. The life completely drains out of me, too. It's her. I know it's her. 

"Gwen," he says when he connects the call. He holds his phone to his ear by his shoulder as he drags his boxers and trousers on and walks out to the corridor to get his shirt, his jaw definitely tight.

It's then that I hear her shouting down at the line at him. I stand back, like I'm trying to escape the private conversation. Ben's nostrils flare, and his eyes clench shut briefly. 

"Okay, okay, calm down, Gwen. I'm sorry. I'll be there as quick as I can," he replies calmly and quietly. "Apologize to your parents for my delay."

He hangs up, and I stand in the doorway silently while he fasten the buttons of his shirt, my mind racing. He didn't even bite to her rant. There was nothing left in him. No emotion whatsoever. My eyes drop down to my feet, scanning the carpet, my series of questions growing.

I can't conclude anything except one thing, and it's a conclusion that frightens me because it could totally fuck with my immoral conscience even more. I absolutely hate his wife. How she spoke to him just then, I hate her for it. But I have no right to hate her. I've screwed her husband. Twice. One Ben's sorted himself out, he stands quietly for a moment, watching me from across the room.

My heart is begging for him not to go. I don't want him to go. But head is already throwing him out and telling him to leave me alone.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, and from the tone of his voice, he means it. He doesn't want to go. "I have to go."

"I know," I say, nodding, biting back the temptation to spill into loud sobs before him. I've cried enough as it is. "But you've got to do what you have to do, right?"

"See me tomorrow," he says, not as a question, more like a statement. 

I just look at him, unable and unwilling to reply. What I want to do so desperately is ask all about his marriage, why he's so unhappy, why he can't just leave, but that is a place I know shouldn't venture. It's laughable.

Yet I fear that whatever I learn from Ben will just be another reason that I can use a weapon to justify my actions. Knowing things were rocky before I came along isn't beneficial. It'll just help blanket my reasoning. It's fucking backwards. I can't win here.

So I do the wisest thing and keep my mouth shut. The less I know about it, the better off I'll be. Even if it kills me not to know. 

"Rey," he whispers. "Answer me."

I drop my gaze to the floor, feeling them flood with infuriating, hot, prickly tears. "It didn't even sound like a question," I retort softly.

I need him to leave now, because I don't want him to see me break down again. I'm on the edge, my body beginning to tremble with the restraint it's taking to hold it all together. 

When I hear his steps coming near, I close my eyes and breathe strength deep into me. His soft touch meets my cheek and strokes delicately for a few seconds before he dips inward and kisses my forehead. Then he turns and walks out of the room. 

And I crumple to the floor and sob like I've never sobbed before. Because he said that if the Fates ever led me to him again, he wouldn't walk away or let me go. And he just did. To go meet his wife. And my whole world feels like it shatters like fine glass to a stone floor, not that's not my world, that's my heart and it's broken into a thousand tiny little pieces.

Why do I keep doing this to myself? He's married, Rey! He's married and he only sees you for something to fuck on the side, if he really cared, he would've left her already. He would've stayed.....he would've....

And my brain won't let me think on it much further because I succumb to my grief. 


	13. Chapter 13

How can you become so attached to something with such limited contact? The answer is easy and unbearable all at once. I feel like Ben was made especially for me, and the fact that I can't have him is the cruelest thing in the world to me. Plain cruel. He is forbidden.

I shouldn't have had him in the first place. And I _definitely_ shouldn't have had him the second time around. And I'm so mad with myself. 

I may have been misled in that bar, I may have given into his potency, but I knew full well what I was getting myself into last night. It's unforgiveable. I lay in bed mentally beating myself up about it all over again, the guilt returning tenfold. I try not to allow myself to wonder if his lack of any fight on the phone with her was because of guilt.

I tried not to imagine him being so subservient to her and accepting her rant, even if he probably does deserve it. But Gwen doesn't know about me.

So what is she yelling at him for? Simply being late for dinner? I didn't sleep a wink, my mind not shutting down, but I did reach one solid conclusion. This as to end now. All of it. Whether their marriage struggling is of no consequence. I have absolutely no place in their lives. Their problems are not my problems, and I shouldn't go and make them mine.

I'm better than this. By 6 a.m., I've given them up on sleep, so I put myself in the shower and ready myself for a long day at work.

After getting my car sorted out with a local garage, I stop off for a large cappuccino and drink it while I make a few calls and e-mail the structural engineer to arrange a meeting to discuss the roof issue. He comes back to me quickly saying he's free at two for half and hour. I have no choice but to take the slot and rearrange my diary. 

I'm chewing on the end of my pen an hour later, working out some numbers, when my mobile dings the arrival of an e-mail. I snatch it up while jotting down and glance at the screen. His name glares up at me, getting the usual expected reaction from my heart.

Then the relentless flashbacks commence, too, except now there are more scenes, more feelings, more images. More words to hang on to. I read the first line of his e-mail and quickly established that it's in no-way work related. "Damn you, Ben." I stop reading and immediately delete it.

We've crossed the line twice. It can't happen again for a third time. 

"Totally doable," the engineer says, simple as that. "I'll have the recalculations done and get them to you before we close out for the day tomorrow." 

"You are a saint." I give him praying hands. "Thank you."

He smiles and gets his pad out, starting to make notes. As I pass the existing double doors that lead into the garden, I spot Dopheld point up at some branches of the horse chestnut tree. He spots and waves me out.

"Rey, this is Holdo. She's going to have her team get rid of these branches."

"Hi." I shake her hand when she offers it.

"Which one are my boys lopping off?" she asks, looking up.

"Lopping off?" I laugh. 

"I'm afraid I'm all about technical language."

"Right." I catch Dopheld's laughing eyes, too, as I point the branches out. "That one and that one."

"And that one," Ben says, appearing from across the garden. I cringe on the inside, quickly looking way before I even have the chance to admire how beautiful he looks in his suit.

"I don't think that's necessary," I reply formally. "Just the two will suffice."

Holdo and Dopheld look between the two of us. "I disagree." Ben reaches us and points to the lowest branch. "If you remove that one, it'll dislodge the one right behind and the problem will still exist."

I press my lips together, breathing in some patience to me. He's pissed off. I can tell by the bulge in his neck and his clipped tone. And I know why. I only peeked at each of the five e-mails that he sent me, and I deleted each an every one of them swiftly the moment I gathered they weren't work-related. Therefore, I haven't responded to any, and when he called, I rejected every single. 

"And if we move that branch, you'll be exposing the garden to the buildings beyond," I point out.

"Well." His lips twist in annoyance. "I did e-mail you numerous times today regarding this, but you haven't even bothered to reply."

I shoot him a shocked glare and open my mouth to fire a few choice words at him, but quickly force my gob shut when I remember we have company with us. He most certainly did _not_ e-mail me about trees or anything work-related, and he knows it, too. 

"I've been rather busy," I reply shortly. "But we're clear now." I walk away, leaving Holdo and Dopheld with wary eyes, and Ben with a fuming face. "But the branch stays," I call.

Ben's caught up with me before I even make it back inside the building. "Why have you been ignoring all of my e-mails?" he hisses in my ear, following close behind me. "And all of my phone calls." 

"Oh, I don't know, Solo, maybe they were about us fucking," I swing around, infuriated. "And that back there was _your_ way of punishing me for not answering you. By making me look incompetent in front of _my_ colleagues, just because I didn't reply to your stupid e-mail or answer your calls? Just because _your_ bloody ego is bruised?"

"You really think this has _anything_ to do with my ego?"

"Yes!" I hiss.

"Then you're more deluded than I thought. The branch needs to go!" he barks childishly.

"It's staying, Solo!"

He growls, advancing towards me, forcing my steps backward until I'm pushed into a corner. _No. Oh, no, no, no!_

"It's easy to ignore me when I'm on the end of a message, isn't it?" he says, his voice low and dangerous. "So what happens now, Rey?" He then grabs my hand and slams it over the crotch of his trousers. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

He's solid. He's angry at me and he's fucking solid. I gulp, anxiety gripping me. He's wrong. It's not easy when he's on the end of an e-mail. It's not as hard as this, but it's still a battle that I'm losing. Or have I already lost?

"And this?" He then moves my hand to his chest and pushes it into his pec. The beats of his beating heart are crazy fast. Just like mine. "What do I do with this?" 

"Why don't you go and ask your wife!" I inwardly wince at my quiet retort, but Ben physically winces, dropping my hand and standing back, a look of pure disgust on his face.

He breathes in, slowly raising a finger and pointing it at me. "You don't get to say that. Not after what happened between us last night, and the night at the hotel, Rey."

"You forget, Solo," My jaw could crack under the immense pressure of the bite on my back teeth. "I can say what I fucking like, because no one fucking owns me. And _definitely_ not you."

His features twist, his disgust doubling, and he slowly places his hand on my lip. I jolt under his touch, and he smiles victoriously. "Really, Rey? You just keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. You feel something for me, I know it."

"Maybe I did, but--"

"You still do. " he says, cutting me off and reaching up and caressing my cheek and it despite his anger, his touch is filled with affection. _Damn you, Solo! Damn you!_ "Don't be afraid, Rey. I feel it, too."

"Um....Ben?" Dopheld interrupts us, definite awkwardness in his tone, and I quickly dip away from Ben, moving on shaky legs to the drawings.

"What?!" Ben yells, pulling my shocked stare up.

Dopheld doesn't even flinch. "I think you need to come out front, mate." Dopheld's face is full of apologizes, and Ben's is suddenly full of dread. Then I hear it: a woman yelling.

I look toward the front of the house, wondering what on earth is going on. "BEN!" a woman screams. "BEN!"

Ben's hands immediately go up to his head and yank viscously, and he shouts a carnal sound full of frustration. He glares at me, his eyes raging with fire. I turn to dust on the spot, cowering way. Then he strides off. 

I look over at Dopheld. Dopheld looks at me. "I'd avoid the front front for a little while, if I were you."

Of course, that means I just go right ahead and make my way out there, curious. Too curious. Dangerously curious. I find Ben halfway down the driveway and his wife waving her arms, looking deranged, while plenty of workmen look on. What on earth?"

"Why haven't you answered any of my calls," she screeches.

Ben's hands come up in a pacifying way, his body languages now entirely different compared to when he left me a few moments ago. "I've been busy, Gwen. I'm running a business here, you know." He sounds calm, too.

"Yeah, that's all about fucking work with you! What about me? What about your marriage?!"

I watch on, rapt as he seems to talk her down before taking her arm. She yanks herself free and shoves him away viscously, though Ben's big body hardly moves at all.

"Daddy says that _I_ should be your number one priority! He says that you're selfish and I'm inclined to agree!" Her final vomit of insults is delivered on a slight slur. Is she drunk? _Daddy"?_

"That's enough, Gwen. You're showing yourself up and making a scene." Ben grans her arms and leads her to his car, but she pushes him away again, stumbling a little in her heels on the gravel. Oh yeah, she's definitely drunk. 

"I'll get myself in the car, thank you very much," she spits, falling into the front seat. 

Ben looks back at me, his face is a picture of stress. Then he shakes his head mildly at me and mouths. _This isn't over. Not by a long shot._ I take a step backward and find the nearest thing to cling to in order to hold me up. 

* * *

I spend all weekend lost in work in an attempt to distract myself. It doesn't work. And it's not going to, when Ben's been persistently trying to get hold of me. I've chosen to ignore him. It's been hard, but somehow, I've managed. On Monday, I stop off at the store on my way home to pick up some dinner for this evening.

As I'm traipsing up aisle after aisle trying to decide what I fancy, my phone chimes the arrival of yet another text. I reach for a paella as I open the message.

_We need to talk. Meet me. Ben._

My stomach drops. It doesn't take a genius to conclude that this won't be about business. And it isn't even a question. I start imaging what he wants to say, my mind going into overdrive, no matter how hard I try to stop it. _This isn't over. Not by a long shot._

My lips dry and my stomach flips. I quickly delete the message before I do something incredibly stupid....like reply back. Why is he doing this to me? I need to quit Lando's project. It kills me, but I have to. 

I can't work with him. I shouldn't work with him. I'll just take on more projects, anything to swallow up all my time and take my mind way from my own dangerous thoughts. That's the plan. I just hope to God it works, because every time I see Ben, the deep ache inside of me intensifies. My want deepens, my heart splits in two with pain when he leaves, and when he holds me, I dream about him holding me every single day, encouraging me every day, inspiring me every day.

For the first time in my life, I'm imagining my world with a man in it. I'm imagining giving up some of my independence to make room for Ben. Because when I'm with him, it doesn't feel like I'm giving up anything at all---only gaining.

I'm imagining him poring over designs with me, offering sound advice, telling me constantly how proud he is of me. Ignoring all of these dreams is draining me. I'm all out of resistance. 

Dropping my half-full basket to the floor, I abandon my plan to eat and rush home so I can dive into my office and lose myself in work. I finish drawings, e-mail them, call the structural engineer for his opinions on a few things....and draft an e-mail to Lando advising him of my intention to pull out of his project, but recommending some colleagues of mine who will be more than happy to assist him and see it through it completion. 

I take a call from a potential client and schedule a meeting. It's nowhere near the scale of Lando's project, but it's something else for me to get stuck into. I check in with Mum and Dad, reply to a text from Poe telling him I'm fine, so, _so_ fine, and even clean my bathroom. It's been quite a productive day.

The only that'll finish it off nicely is clicking SEND on the e-mail I drafted to Lando. But as my cursor hovers over the icon, nothing I say to myself convinces me to click it.

I close my eyes and will my finger to push down. Just press down. Just press that little icon and all your problems will go away. I sit back in my chair, staring at the screen for a good ten minutes, searching for the will and sensibility do to the right thing here.

_Ding!_

I look down at my phone and see Ben's name, and though everything tells me to open his message, my stupid fingers don't hesitate to click down on that icon. 

_You don't get to ignore me now, Rey._

A second later, my phone starts ringing, and I push myself away from my desk in my chair to put some space between me and it. "Go away, Ben," I whisper. As soon as it stops ringing, I quickly dial up Rose, breathing my way through my sheer panic. I'm going to cave soon. 

"Hey girl, what's up?"

"Do you fancy a coffee?" I ask her.

"Sure. I just got done with work. Our usual place, say twenty minutes?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll see you soon."

I spot Rose weaving her way through the tables up ahead, my eyes following her until she lands in the chair opposite me. "So how's work? Everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I hardly see him actually," I lie. This wasn't the plan. I need a distraction! I could never ever tell Rose that I slept with him again, specially given everything that she's been through with Finn. I can never tell _anyone_. I'm such a disgrace. 

A weak, pathetic excuse for a woman. I also can't tell her that I'm quitting Lando's project, either. She'll know exactly why if I do. 

I plaster on fake smile on my face, feigning normality. "Besides, there's nothing like a wife to realign things, is there?"

Rose laughs loudly, and for the first time I see the funny side. Because it's actually quite fucking hilarious. I'm never overwhelmed by a man, and when it eventually happens, the bastard is married. 

"Doesn't the sanctimony of marriage mean a damned thing to anyone anymore?" I ask, truly exasperated.

"More marriages end these days than survive." Rose picks up her teaspoon and points it at me. "And mostly because of infidelity. I had quite a lucky escape. I'm never getting married."

"Me either," I agree like I'm subconsciously kissing good-bye to my happily ever after, as well as my dream project. 

"Fuck this coffee," Rose says. "Let's go get pissed. Call up the others." She grabs a menu and proceeds to order alcohol en masse. 

"What? Now?"

"Yes, now. And hopefully you'll get laid, too."

She's right. I need to get back into the saddle. "And you also need a good screw tonight." Her eyebrows immediately jump up at this response. "And by someone other than Poe," I clarify as I grab my phone to call up the guys, my mouth now watering in anticipation for the mojito that will soon be landing on the table in front of me.

Unplanned drinking sessions are truly the best. The fact that it's on a weeknight makes it all the more thrilling. We've ended up in a beer garden in Camden; it's 8 p.m. and we're both tipsy. Not pissed, just a nice gradual state of drunkenness'. We've talked about everything and nothing, my mind being perfectly occupied by alcohol and dedicated friend.

"I've really missed this," Rose says, looking past me to a group of men at the back of the beer garden.

I follow her eyes and smile. "You've missed ogling men?"

"No." She waves her wine between us. "This. You've been working so hard lately on your business, and I get that, but I've missed our girlie time together."

"Me too," I confess, watching Rose plaster a knockout smile on her pretty face, obviously having attracted the attention of the group of men. "Hey, come on. We're having such a nice time without men involved," I point out, smacking her arm to win her attention back.

I look past Rose and see Poe stroll in the the beer garden. I can virtually hear all the female hormones' in the vicinity go potty. He laps it up too and strut over. "Shit, how many behind am I" he asks, taking in our rather tipsy stares.

Rose burps in reply, and I start giggling. "I'll get us more drinks." I snatch my bag up and head for the bar. "And keep both of your hands to yourselves while I am gone." I level a warning look on Poe, and he holds his hands up in surrender.

"Reading you louder and clear, captain."

I then make my way to the ladies room to freshen up before heading to the bar to get our drinks in. By the time I've made it back to the garden, Jannah's found us, too. Everyone cheers my return and dives on the ray when I place it down on the table. "Wow," Jannah chimes in, toasting my head. "It's a school night and Rey's not in her studio. What's happened?"

I ignore her sarcasm and throw my arm around her shoulder. "Drink," I order. "We're three ahead of you."

"To being single!" Jannah sings, and we all clink our glasses before getting our drinking session underway. 

It was so needed---the alcohol, the group of friends, the limited space to allow my mind to venture further than the laughs being had in the pub garden. I feel almost normal again. Sane. Even if I'm totally smashed. Poe drops me home in a cab at around eleven, the amount of alcohol I've indulged in evidence as I zig-zag my way up the path to my front door. 

"Hey, Rey!" he calls from the cab. "Run it off in the morning?"

I snort unattractively and give him the middle finger, making him laugh as he slams the door and the cab pulls away. Getting my key in the lock proves tricky. I close one eye and zero in on my target, but each time I hit the wood to the side, chipping at the paintwork. "In you go, "I slur, getting up close and personal with my door, my tongue haning out a little in concentration.

"You're doing very well there, are you?"

I jump and whirl around, just barely managing to keep my balance, and find Ben standing behind me. I smile brightly and point at him. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the married man himself!" I sing, and then slam a clumsy hand over my mouth to silence myself, giggling like an idiot. "Oopsie," I say into my palm.

I might be drunk as a skunk, but he definitely scowls at me, and I even manage to find the sense to be offended by it.

"Did you just scowl at me, Ben Solo?"

"You're drunk," he mutters, coming towards me. 

"Nice observation, Solo." My challenged vision runs a sluggish check over him, finding him looking delightful in some battered old jeans and an old black T-shirt, his biceps bulging. "And yes, you are right. I am drunk." I stagger a little, my back meeting the door. "And you know what, it's none of your concern."

He takes the top of my arm and moves me to the side, prying my key from me and opening the door. A deep warmth penetrates my skin, making me look down on a frown to where he's got hold of me. "There, the door's open."

"Why does that always happen?" I ask my arm.

"What?" he mutters, irritated. He's in a right mood. I laugh hysterically on the side. What, has he had a row with his wife again? Good! I hope she's figured out that he's a cheating asshole!

"I go all funny whenever you touch me." I shudder on the spot, and he looks down at me as he pushes the door open.

"Funny, isn't exactly the word I'd use."

"Well, then, what word would you use, then?" I challenge, pulling my arm free, but it's soon claimed again when my hasty withdrawal has me staggering backwards.

"I'm not having this conversation with you when you're drunk off your ass, Rey." He guides me into the hallway, following. 

"No, that's because you'd better back home to your wife!" I laugh, snatching my arm back and slumping back against the wall.

"Stop it, Rey," he warns, placing a palm into the wall next to my head and leaning in close. Too close. "Why haven't you answered any of me e-mails and phone calls?"

"Isn't it obvious! I don't want anything to do with you," I spit, making him recoil, shocked. Well, would you look at that, he has a nerve and I've hit it. 

"Stop fucking lying to me!"

I drink in air, searching for some poise before I slap him. Too late. My arm flies out clumsily, but I miss his cheek by a mile, my arm ricocheting off his shoulder instead. He doesn't even jolt, whereas I completely loose my footing and stumble forward awkwardly.

"I hate you!" I snipe as he catches me in his arms, cursing under his breath. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

"Shut up, Rey!" he seethes, lifting me off my feet. "You don't hate me and don't ever fucking try to hit me again!"

"Why?!" I snap, wriggling to break free.

"Because it doesn't suit someone like you!"

As we pass through my bedroom, the sight of my bed makes me start squirming more, but Ben just holds on that much tighter. "Get off me! Get off of me!" I begin to flail my arms, but they have no effect on him as he strides across my room with me locked tightly to his body.

"Cut it out, Rey!" he warns, a threatening edge to his tine.

"NO!" 

He lowers me to my ass on the bed, bur I'm scrambling back up a second later, getting up in his face. This close, his gorgeous features make me even dizzier. I slam my eyes closed and lose my footing again, plummeting to the bed. I'm a mess. Useless. Pathetic.

"Just go away," I plead, burying my face in my palms to hide from him. "Leave me alone, Ben."

My stomach lunges, and my mouth becomes watery. Oh no I jump up from the bed and make a mad dash for the bathroom, banging into everything on my way, whether it's blocking my path or not. I throw my head over the toilet and throw up on long, loud wretches. 

Oh God," I groan, going completely limp around the bowl, clinging to it with weak arms.

I then feel finger weave through my hair and pull it away, and a warm palm smooths across my back. Slumped over the toliet, I rest my head on my arms and close my eyes.

"Please, Rey, don't hate me," he murmurs.

I can't neither hear or contemplate his words because my whole world is spinning out of control. And then....I black out. 


	14. Chapter 14

You know it's going to be a bad one when your head is throbbing and you've not even lifted it off the pillow. And your body hurts when you try to move and get comfy in your bed. And your mouth is dryer than the driest desert, but you can't figure out if you'd prefer the remain unmoving and poke up with dehydration, or attempt to get to the kitchen in search of water and risk throwing up on the way.

Yep, this is definitely a bad one. Maybe the worst I've ever had, and that's an achievement since I've not even got up yet. I groan and attempt to stretch, hissing as I lengthen my body, spreading myself out in search of a cool patch.

I peel my eyes open, my nightstand coming into view, a glass of water sitting waiting for me. And propped up against it, a small note saying. "Hydration." I frown and it up, spotting two small pills on a note next to it that says, "Pain Relief."

What on earth? I till and try to think back to last night. Oh my God. I slowly cast my eyes over my shoulder, cringing as I do, bracing myself for what I might find. What's spread across my bed gives me a fucking heart attack, and I bolt upright, immediately grabbing my heart for fear that it might off clean off. I hiss and wince as I fall back to the mattress, unable to give the seriousness of my situation the attention it deserves of my feeble stares.

"Ben?" I moan, throwing my leg out to kick him. What have I done?"

He groans but remains on his back, and my eyes take a greedy roam down his naked body, arriving at his cock. There's a note there, too. "Breakfast."

"BEN!"

He lashes flutter and his lids open, deep brown pools of adorable sleepiness greeting me. "Morning," he rasps, not in the last bit disturbed by seeing me.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask, starting panic for the both of us.

His hand comes across and rests on my hip. Which is also naked. "How's your head?"

"A bit confused right now, actually," I admit, pulling away from him before his touch even has a chance to scramble my mind further. He looks down to my hip, now free of his hand, and then back up to me. "We didn't....." I wave a finger between us, trying my hardest to pull some memories out of my beaten brain. "You and I, please tell me that we didn't---"

"No, we didn't," he says quietly, almost apprehensively.

I'm relieved, but I still don't know why the hell he's here in my apartment. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't answer my messages or my calls." 

"So you thought you'd just break into my apartment?!"

"I didn't break in. I found you plastered trying to unlock your door when I came over to talk to you."

I swallow down my anger and push myself to the edge of the bed. "Well, I hate to bust your bubble, but I have nothing left to say to yo."

Taking a deep breath to push away the dizziness, I rise to my feet. I spend a few precious seconds ensuring that I'm not going to face plant, then make my way to the kitchen in search of waster, completely abandoning the one that Ben kindly laid out for me in my need to abandon _him._

"Please just leave, Ben," I call out.

I make it to the kitchen and turn the tap on, running it while I collect a glass. I glug back two pints of water on the bounce, ravenous, before slamming my glass on the drainer and pivoting to leave the kitchen. Brushing past him as I exit is unavoidable when I find that he's blocking my doorway, and as soon as our skin connects, I gasp, my pace faltering. But I might myself to keep moving.

I don't get very far. Ben's hand shoots out and claims both of my wrists. "Don't do this to me, Rey," he practically growls, squeezing his hold on me. "Don't you dare, Rey."

I wrench my arm free, my teeth gritting hard. But I don't say anything to him. My seething expression must say it all. I glare up at him as I walk away, my jaw aching from the pressure of clenching my teeth.

"REY!" Ben shouts, his bare feet thumping the wooden floor as he comes after me. "Come back here!"

"Get out!"

I push my way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and locking it. In instant, his fists are banging on the wood. But I ignore them, flipping the shower on. After scrubbing my teeth to within an inch of my life, I get in the shower and scrub the stench of stale alcohol away. He has no right to be here.

He may not have taken advantage of me, but be took advantage nevertheless. I start shampooing my hair thoroughly, blocking any thoughts and questions from muscling their way into my achy mind.

After rinsing and washing down, I step out, grabbing a towel from the towel rail, listening for any movement beyond my bathroom door. There's nothing. 

As I dry off and throw a T-shirt on, I mentally plan my day. I need to revise some drawings. Maybe I could take Poe up on his offer and squeeze in a quick run. It could be a good stress alleviator. I should call the girls, too, to see if they're in any better shape than I am. And I mean hang-over wise. Not fucked-up-married-man-wise.

After towel-drying my hair I flip my head, just as the door flies open the lock jumping off the wood. I swing around, finding Ben standing in the doorway....still.

"Are you deaf? I said GET OUT!" I shout incredulously.

"No."

I spin away from him, doing everything that I can to avoid meeting his eyes in the mirror, knowing that I mustn't risk being hauled into their burning depths. It's not a battle I can win.

An invisible force pulls my stare to his in the reflection. My spine lengthens. He's just there, no expression and no movement, but it makes no difference to my uncontrollable reaction to him. Reactions that I shouldn't have. Reactions that I cannot help.

"Your wife." I say. "She doesn't deserve this, Ben."

No woman deserves this, no matter what. I've encountered her only a few times, seen her sporadic behavior and heard the rumors, but it still doesn't make this whole thing right. His nostrils flare as he scans my face for a few thoughtful moments, maybe considering what a selfish asshole he's being. What an awful situation that he's putting me in.

"Don't think you're destroying a perfectly innocent marriage, Rey. Because you're not."

"It's still a marriage, nonetheless," I mumble weekly. "Perfect or not, I have no place in it."

"That's not true, Rey. You do have a place in it, because you are the only thing that can possibly save me from it." 

I feel my brow furrow at these words. "Save you from it?"

A small smile crosses his handsome face. "Gwen is...." His words die as he evidently struggles to piece together what he wants to say. "Volatile." He sighs. "Our marriage is over. I know it, she knows it, but she just refuses to accept it." Ben shakes his head and squeezes his eyes closed, the frustration clear. "I can't live like this anymore, Rey. There's no going back for me now."

Opening his eyes, he levels a determined stare on me. Something tells me he's been thinking on how best to explain this situation to me. I still don't know if can trust him or not.

"I don't want to find way back again. Especially since I've met you." He shakes his head a little in frustration. "See me again," he orders quietly.

"Are you crazy or just plain stupid?" I ask him, dumfounded. I've already spent limited time with Ben as it is, and it feels like I've known him for years. Adding any more hours to our time together would be monumentally stupid. I've been stupid enough already.

He moves across the bathroom towards me, coming to a complete stop behind me. He doesn't touch me, but ensures our eye contact remains intact. "Quite possibly," he answers simply.

I swallow and shake my head, but he counters by nodding his own, confident with his declaration. I can feel myself slipping from the safety of my conscious again. "No," I murmur.

"Yes," he counters, watching me as he lowers his mouth to my shoulder and rests his lips on my flesh. I jerk and grab the sink for support, but I don't pull away. Stupidly, I let him at me, consumed in a second by his power over me.

He kisses my shoulder lightly and takes hold of my hand, extending it out to the side and kissing his way down my arm to the very tips of my fingers. My skin burns into flames, my dead drops back, and my mind blanks out once again. Only Ben exists. I slide my hand up his arm and curl my palm around his neck, applying a light pressure, telling him to come to me.

He expresses no victory. He circles me until he's before me and slides his hand onto my cheek, lowering his mouth leisurely to mine. I'm gone, lost in that special place he takes me to, where passion and longing cloud everything.

Then Gwen's face is suddenly all I see, and I shout, pushing him away from me again. "No," I snap, turning and walking away from him, my hands coming up to my temples and physically trying to force the image of her face from my head. It's stuck there, tormenting me, torturing me. I can't cave again. I _mustn't_ cave again! "Get out, Ben!"

"Rey, don't walk away from this, you have---"

"I said GET OUT, BEN!" I scream, swinging around in a blind rage. His pursuit halts just as soon as he gets sight of my incensed face. "I don't want you!" I seethe, snatching up his jeans and T-shirt and throwing them at his viciously. 

He let his clothes hit him and fall carelessly to the floor. "Stop fucking lying to me, Rey!" he roars, stalking forward and claiming me. "Stop saying what your head is demanding and start listening to your fucking heart, Rey! You love me!"

"My heart isn't saying anything!" I fight with him, scared to death of remaining in his hold, feeling him breaking me down with every second he's touching me.

"Then why can I fucking hear it?" he yells. "Loud and fucking clear, woman. It's saying the exact same thing mine is."

I wrench myself free and move away, breathing heavily. "Leave me the hell alone and go back to you wife. It's that simple."

"Simple? Simple?!" Ben asks seriously, gesturing an accusing hand up and down my front before smashing a fist into his pec. "Then why the fuck does it hurt like hell every single time I think about seeing you again?!" he yells. "Explain it to me, Rey, because I really am going fucking crazy here!"

I shrink on the spot, shocked, yet I fully comprehend what he's saying to me. I feel like I'm going out of my mind, too, and I'm definitely hurting. I start to shake. It's anger, but it's also with fear.

"Get out," I need to put side the crazy chemistry and bat down the butterflies in my stomach. I mustn't be blinkered by lust again. "Just go, Ben." 

I drop my eyes to the floor before I can take in any more of him. And those pesky memories. His face, my face, our bodies. I squeeze my eyes shut and push the hell of my palm into my forehead. 

"It doesn't work," he says quietly. "Nothing does. I've tried it." I start to shake my head at him, my chees becoming wet with tears of absolute frustration. "Nothing works, Rey. Not shaking my head, not distracting myself, nothing."

"Stop it, Ben." I whimper pathetically.

"I can't stop," he hisses, taking a step towards me. "Look, it was bad enough having you constantly up here." He taps to his temple aggressively, his face twisting. "Now that you're _actually_ fucking here. I can't eat, I can't sleep."

He then takes another step towards me and I retreat, trying my hardest to keep the distance between us. Being this close to him is exceptionally dangerous. It's screwing with my resolve, eating through my conscience. 

"You're a married man, Ben," I grate, furious with him. Furious! "I made a horrible mistake by sleeping with you....twice! Get out of my apartment, _now!"_

He just stands there and stares at me for a few moments, and I can tell he's assessing my mental state. He's trying to find that one little chink in my armor, any way to in. I won't give it to him. Not ever again.

"I said, get out," I repeat, certain and strong. "I never want to see you again."

"Lando's--"

"I'm quitting the project."

Ben backs up, his face a picture of hurt, maybe even devastation, but I refuse to let it dent my resolve. I make sure my expression remains determined, watching as his jaw goes so tight it could possibly crack.

"You want that?" he asks. "Is that really what you _want,_ Rey?"

"I just don't see see another way around it."

"Well, I do." Ben's face is suddenly determined. "You're right. I can't look at you every single day and know that you're lying to yourself. And to me." He tugs, his jeans up his legs and shove his feet into his boots angrily. "But you're not quitting. This project means too much to you, and I'm not going to be the reason that you walk away from it."

I withdraw, moving back. "I don't understand."

"I'll be off the job by tomorrow evening." He turns and walks out, pulling his T-shirt on as he goes, and a few seconds later I hear the front door slam with brutal force. 

* * *

My breathing becomes shallow and strained, my throat clogging up. What the hell just happened? He's quit. Ben's solved my problem for me by removing himself from the equation. I'll never see him again. 

I'll carry on with my life as if I never met him. It's for the best. I know it's for the best. I can't go on like this. I'm caught in limbo, desolate without him, desolate with him. I feel like I'm yo-yoing between my own strength and shakiness, never knowing which way to turn. I'm never going to see him again. Hear him. Feel him.

Those thoughts make my knees give out, and I crumple to the floor into a heap of grief. I'll never see him again.

My eyes well up, blurring my surroundings. My whole world blurs, too. I'll never see him again. Never feel him, hear him, smell him. My shallow breathing virtually diminishes to nothing, my sobs now racking my folded body. I know this is for the best. So why does it feel like I'm slowly dying inside? He's walked away so that I don't have to.

Because he knows what this project means to me. I drag myself up from the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. I don't know what I'm doing, but everything is telling me to do it. To go after him. 

I stagger to the door, my vision distorted through my teary eyes, and throw myself out into the street. I frantically search for his car and spot him down the road getting into his Audi. "BEN!" I scream, and he looks up, holding the top of his door. 

I stand where I am in a T-shirt and nothing else, my feet bare, my face undoubtedly a tear-stained wreck. There is some truth to what he's said and I can't deny that no matter how how I try to kill it.

"I-I don't want you go to," I sob, breaking down completely. "Please, I don't want you to go!"

He slams his car door and runs towards me, worry written all over his face. He just catches me before my body gives out, scooping me up into his arms and squeezing me to his chest. My arms hold him so tightly, my heart telling me this is right. Me and him. It's so right. It _feels_ so right. 

"You see? It doesn't have to be this hard," he whispers, walking up the steps and into my hallway, shutting the door behind him. 

Detaching me from his body, he brings his hands to my face, and when the heat of his touch meets my cheek, the warmth spreads throughout me. Those powerful, consuming feelings take hold. Just one touch.

He brings his face close to mine, his other hand settling on my hip as we stare into each other's eyes. I see so much pain behind his mesmerizing brown. And so much life.

"Don't make me give you up, Rey," he murmurs quietly, his voice broken with emotions. 

My throat clogs, my eyes refilling with hopeless tears. "I-I have no fight left within me, Ben."

"Good, because I'm fucking exhausted battling it out with you." He dips his head and claims my mouth gently, sensing my fragile state, his hand sliding into my hair and fisting, holding me firmly in place.

Falling. I return his kiss, no questions, no fighting and no hesitation. It's slow, it's accepting, and it's loving. And everything is better once again. Then things begin to get desperate. Things start to get frantic. Ben moans, over and over, and I swallow them all. The pace of our swirling begins to increase until we're going at each other with a desperate urgency, ripping each other's clothes from our bodies, down the hallway, banging into the walls and groaning loudly.

Our desperation is spiraling. A trail of clothes is left in our wake as we cause a category five hurricane with out urgency to get to the bedroom. 

Ben doesn't push me down to the bed as I expected. He slams me into the wall, our hands feeling everywhere that they can reach. I'm lost in him, and I have no wish to find myself. I have to have him, and while he's ravishing me with such conviction and confidence, I have no hope of stopping this.

And I find myself having no desire to. The forbidden is too irresistible. It has a dangerous allure and a compelling magnetism. And it's certainly going to inflict pain and anguish.

It defies reason for me to willingly allow myself to be possessed like this. To surrender completely to a man who belongs to someone else. But I can't fight my heart. I want him. I love him. My sanity will be compromised no matter which road I take. I'm doomed. 

Ben takes us down to the floor, our naked bodies rubbing in all the right places, as he golds me beneath him, pinning my arms above my head. I shout, I writhe, I arch my back violently. His mouth is all over me, every kiss filled with liquid fire, every lick sending surges of imagery through me. 

His lips latch on to my nipple and suck hard, licking and nibbling at the tip. "Ben!" I scream, bucking desperately under him. I'm being tortured in the best and worst ways possible. 

And he doesn't let up. Keeping my arms securely over my head, he crawls all over me, kissing me everywhere, his lips eventually finding their way to my mouth and devouring me. Deep plunges, wide swirls, harsh bites of my lips. I'm going out of mind. Pulling the flesh of my bottom lip through his teeth, he open his eyes and watches me coming undone as he releases my lip and kisses his way down the center of my stomach.

Our eyes lock and he brings my arms down to my tummy, holding both wrists in one hand on my abdomen so his mouth can reach....

"Oh my God!" I fling my head back and snap my spine into a harsh arch, trying to yank my hands free.

They're going nowhere. I try to find the strength to just relax, try to the savor the indescribably pleasure. I look down at him, panting my way through it, the slick warmth of his tongue swirling far and wide sending me dizzy.

I flop back and hold my breath, feeling the rush of pressure dropping fast into my sex. "BEN!" I cry as my climax seizes me, tossing me into an oblivion of stars and white noise, my body violently vibrating under him.

The pleasure goes on and on, ripping through me like the most powerful of tornadoes, knocking everything out of me. Everything---the guilt, the tormenting conscience, the ability to care about what I'm doing. It's all lost in a haze of Ben Solo. My body liquefies and I go lax on the floor while he laps lazily at my clitoris, sucking gently, easing me back down. 

I feel utterly useless beneath him, my arms flopping above my head. I exhale a moan, feeling him crawling up my body, until lips are level with mine and he's exploring my mouth again, this time gently. 

I swallow his hums and breathe him into me, relishing in his weight spread over me and the feel of his cock pulsing against my life. 

"So, how was it for you?" he asks as he nibbles his way across my mouth. 

I can't help but smile. It's probably misplaced, but, good lord, I feel like I've had the pleasure of a million orgasms all at once, and during the process, my shaking world has aligned completely.

"It was better than good," I admit, nuzzling into the scruff at his neck. I've never felt so sated. 

Finding some strength, I drag my arms up and curl them around his shoulders, humming happily to myself. "Sounds to me like someone's satisified," he muses, pecking my lops one last time and pulling away.

"Is that a hint?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow at him. 

"And speaking of hints...."

"Oh, your cute little note?"

He grins, the god-glorious grin that I haven't seen for too long. A grin that I've never seen on his face when he's been with his wife. I make him happy. "You didn't take much notice of it, though, did you?"

"I was in shock." My eyes fall to his neck, and my hand automatically lifts to ghost my finger across the faded claw marks.

Ben's smile is now sad, and he takes my hand from his neck, pulling it to his mouth and kissing my knuckles. "She lashes out at me, instead."

He looks so unaffected by it, and that's the worst thing of all. It's all normal to him. This big, strapping man. I get a sudden, vivid recollection of me swinging at him last night in my drunken state, and how mad he was. Ashamed of myself, I vow here and now to never let that happen again, no matter how frustrated at him am.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I ask. 

"Because when I'm with you, I'm free, Rey. I'm not tearing myself up inside wondering what the fuck went wrong with my marriage and why Gwen is the way that she is. I'm not obsessing about blame and where it all falls. And I'm not trapped and miserable. I'm just....me....again."

My welling eyes fall from his handsome face. "Then why do you allow it?" 

"What am I going to do, Rey? Hit her back? I'd kill her with just one punch."

"Then leave her," I whisper, my throat ragged and broken. The thought of her physically hurting him tears me up inside, no matter how capable he is. Not matter how big and strong. He just has to accept it. "Just leave her."

Tears build in my eyes, and Ben rolls into my side, propping himself up on a an elbow. He tenderly wipes them away, bringing his face down to mine. " _Please,_ don't cry for me."

His gentle order has the reverse effect, and I start to sob, my face turning and hiding in his neck. How can he be so accepting of this? The thought of someone physically hurting him literally destroys me inside. Ben forces me out, putting his body fully on top of mine, getting nose to nose with me.

"She doesn't hurt me, Rey. The only person in this world who can hurt me now is _you._ Do you hear what I'm saying to you? I'm untouchable if I have you." He starts to dot light kisses all over my face, wiping way the tears with his mouth.

"You have to leave her, Ben." I reach over his shoulders and hold him close to me, like I can protect him from her. Take him away from his nightmare. 

"Trust me. When I can, I will." He lifts his face and gazes down at me, brushing my hair away from my wet face. "You've given me a purpose. A real reason to get out. My own happiness wasn't enough to leave. It just wasn't worth the pain and backlash. Your happiness _is_ enough, and I know that I can make you happy. Just like I know how happy I can be with you." 

His spew of words hit me hard. Every single one of them. He doesn't just need to leave her, he wants to. For me. When he can, he will. 


	15. Chapter 15

"When will the time be right?" I ask him on a mere whisper, starting to grown concerned by what all of this really means. It means people will know. It means _she'll_ know.

"I honestly don't know." He gives me sorry eyes. "A few weeks ago, before I met you, I'd have said never. Now, I will make sure that I find the right time. But I have to tread carefully. And you have to trust me to do this the best way. Please, just give me time." 

What I should do now is walk away. Let him sort out that part of his life before I even _think_ to continue this. That's what I _should_ do. It doesn't mean that I can.

"Am I understanding this right? Are you telling me that you're going to leave your wife?" I ask again, if only for clarification. If only to hear him say it again. 

"Yes," he answers without a second's hesitation. "I need to get out for my own sanity and health. I'm leaving her because I need there to be life left in me, the life that I want to give to you. There's something still alive inside of me, Rey, and you've found it."

I pull him down and cuddle him. I wanted him before I knew I couldn't have him. My want has only multiplied by a million since then, no matter how much guilt tries to mask it. I've never wanted something so badly that I'm willing to sacrifice my integrity to have it. I would never thrown down my demands for him to leave his wife. 

That's his move to make when he thinks it's best to make it. In the meantime, I get some of him. I _need_ some of him. Even if it's just for own sanity. Nothing with Ben isn't an option. 

"I'll take whatever you can give me for now." It pains me to say it, but it's the truth. 

I have to finally face the fact that I'm falling in love with a married man. I've tried to run away. And got nowhere, not only because Ben won't let me. But because my heart won't either. He's asked for time, and though I know most will think I'm certifiably mad, I'm willing to give it to him, because he's worth the wait.

I trust him. I don't want to make his life any more difficult than it already is. I kiss his neck, tracing circles across his back, and stamp out the thoughts threatening to ruin the moment. Right now, he's mine. In this moment, he's mine.

"I trust you," I whisper.

Moving back, he kisses with the most incredible amount of meaning injected into it. "Thank you, Rey," he breathes.

He trails his lips across my face and I smile sadly. Because no matter how much I try to fool myself, a piece of Ben isn't what I want at all, and I know deep down that there will come a point when I can't make do with part of him. I just hope that Ben finds the strength he needs to leave his wife before that time comes. 

We made love all day. Slow, soft and meaningful love. He looked down at me, our breaths mingling, our hands exploring, as he drove into me firm and exact, over and over. 

It was blissful. It was beyond incredible. It left me dazed and struggling to keep my eyes open. Which is a good thing, because I didn't have the energy to disintegrate when he kissed me gently on the forehead before he left last night.

I feel into a deep slumber and dreamed of Ben. It was the most satisfying night's sleep I've ever had. The only thing that would have made it better would have been to have Ben wrapped around me the whole night thought. But entering into this, I have to accept that _that_ can never happen. 

It feels like a small price to pay after the wonderful time we've just spent together, full of acceptance and total devotion. Just a small price to pay. For now. 

I feel full of live and energy as I shower. Strangely, there's an overwhelming sense of relief, like a weight has been lifted from my tired shoulders. Like I have someone else to try to help carry the burden of my choices with me. I'm standing in the mirror looking at myself, kitted from top to toe in sportswear. 

My cheeks have a healthy glow, my dark hair is glossy, and my hazel eyes are sparkling brightly. And I have a deliciousness between my thighs. I feel good, and ignorant as it may seem, I don't question it. 

I grab my iPod, load a playlist, and hit the street. A run. I have no idea where the urge has come from, but I'm going to make the most of it while I still have the drive. The sun is warm on my back as I make tracks towards Hyde Park, feeling fresh and rejuvenated. That may not be the case in a few miles, but for now legs are working with little effort and breathing is consistent and easy.

It defies the fact that I haven't worked out in over a year. And I'm smiling. Elley Duhe's "Love Me Hard," is pumping in my ears, spurring me on, as I race through the park, my focus set firmly forward. Fellow runners nod and return my smile as I continue to breathe steadily.

Ben is a constant vision in my mind, except now I'm not fighting to get him out. He's embedded on my brain, and I like him there. 

His grin, sparkling eyes. His voice, his laughs, his cheeky banter. His passion for my work and his encouragement. Everything about him. Our moments have been just stolen pieces of time, but no matter how brief, they're still so incredibly powerful, the feelings lingering on, and I'm hoping that makes the time in between without him more manageable for me to take.

I smile and take a sharp right, running toward the Serpentine, the fresh morning air breezing across my skin. Something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye and I look across the grass to see Poe waving frantically at me. I pull the buds out of my wars and wave back.

"What the fuck's gotten into you?" he shouts, showing the sky his palms.

"I felt like a run!" I call, keeping up my pace.

He laughs loudly and then turns to the woman who's on her hands and knees in front of him, her long blond hair skimming the grass. I smile like crazy when I see him drop to one knee and take her hips, looking over to me and fist pumping the air.

"Tart," I say to myself, following the path and heading up alongside him, watching as he manipulates the woman into various positions.

"Good morning."

"Oh, shit!" I yelp, jumping mid-stride, looking up to see Ben running next to me. I blink rapidly when his shimmering beauty hits me like a right hook to the eye. Fucking hell; he looks otherworldly. My breathing that was perfectly controlled goes to shit. I'm breathless. "What are you doing here?"

"I run every morning." He performs a quick, expert turn and starts jogging backwards a few paces in front of me. "But I've never had this amazing view before." He puckers his lips and kisses the air. 

I laugh through my labored breathing, dropping my eyes to that lovely, huge solid chest. "Do you always run bare-chested?" I ask him, ripping my stare away from the thrilling sight.

"Only when I'm trying to impress." He turns back the right way, and I feel him look down at me. I peek out from the corner of my eye. He winks cheekily.

I grin broadly. "Well, I'm impressed." 

"Me too," he counters, taking a lazy trip down my body with equally lazy eyes. " _Really_ impressed." 

I suddenly feel more eyes on me and look across the grass to find Poe standing again, watching us warily. Shit! Shit! Shit! "Poe's here," I say, returning my focus forward and trying my hardest not to look guilty.

Just a pleasant morning run with my colleague. The colleague who had fucked me stupid. The same colleague who is married. The same married colleague who I'm now having an affair with.

"Don't look at him!" I snap when I see Ben start to glance around. "He will seriously lose the plot if he finds out about us."

"Take a left up here," he orders.

I look up to see the path forking up ahead and follow his instruction, peering over my shoulder to find Poe no longer in view. "Ben, we can't be seen together," I pant. now struggling like hell with my breathing, maybe assisted by a little panic.

He turns into me mid-stride and grabs me, swiping me from my feet and carrying me behind a tree, his hand slapped over my mouth. Once he has me he pushed up against the bark, he removes his palms and quickly replaces it with his mouth. I'm instantly consumed, matching his hungry kiss. My hands on a mission, feeling every part of his bare chest.

"Hmm, you taste so fucking good, girl."

I smile into his mouth and reach up tp fist his soft, thick black hair. "I'm sweating."

"And I want to lick it all off you." Ben's tongue runs from my cheek to my ear and traces the shell, making me pant, shudder and push myself into his mouth. He growls, circling his hips into my lower tummy. "So fucking good."

"You really must have a thing for licking me, don't you?"

He then pulls back, a spectacular smile on his face. "Are you objecting to that?"

"No." He can lick me until I disappear for all I care. I will not object to it whatsoever nor will I hesitate if he decided to lay me on the grass and have a go at it. 

He reaches forward and traces the bridge of my nose, looking at me fondly. "What are you doing later today?"

"Finalizing some drawings, submitting an application chasing decisions on another one."

He stifles a yawn, glancing away, losing complete interest. "Sounds positively riveting."

"Hey!" I smack his arm, spiking the cutest chuckle from his chest. He grabs my cheeks and squeezes them until my lips are pouting. Ben mirrors my pouting around a grin. 

"I'm not quite sure how I feel about being with a beautiful woman who's potentially more talented than me."

"Potentially?" I mumble through my squished mouth. 

"Well." He shrugs. "The jury's still out over your bedroom skills."

I gasp, disgusted, and Ben mimics it, totally taking the piss. I scowl at him, and he scowls right back. My nose wrinkles, and his wrinkles in return. I force my tongue my lips, childishly sticking it out at him in a demonstration of how affronted I am. 

He grins and releases my cheeks, hauling me into his chest and cuddling. "I'm kidding. I love your work ethic, for the record. Not many people can say they love their job. You're one of the lucky people in this world who get something more than money out of it."

I return Ben's hug. "And about your job? Are you one of the lucky people?"

"I guess so," he says into my hair. "Though my work is more of a good distraction these days." He releases me and fusses over my face for a few moments, ridding my sticky skin of hair. I'm not sure how to read into that statement. So I don't. "Ready?"

"Yes," I assert, joining him when he stars to jog back to the main path. "Act normal." I say, knowing that Poe is about to come into view again at any moment.

"Right," Ben says sharply. "How was your day yesterday?"

I throw him an incredulous look. "What?"

"I'm just making conversation here."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, I want to know how your day was." He'd hiding a smirk as he focuses forward, not indulging my narrowed eyes. 

"Amazing," I confess, deciding to play along with his playful banter. "But I didn't get much work done. How about yours?"

"Oh, I got _lots_ of "work" done." He grins. "And it was the best day ever."

I smile up at him and he looks down at me, his brown eyes the brightest that I've ever seen them. The notion that I am the cause of such a beautiful sight does things to my heart that's beyond comprehension. Puckering his lips, he kisses the air.

"I better go. I'll call you later, gorgeous." He sprints off and I get the pleasure of his wet, naked back for too short of a time before he disappears from view as I gradually slowly my pace and come to a complete stop.

"What the hell did _he_ want?" Poe asks, strolling across the grass towards me.

"Nothing." I raise my arms in the air and stretch, dead set on nailing coolness. 

"Is he bothering you?"

"What? No."

"Well, then what did he want?"

"I just bumped into him, that's all," I say tiredly, dropping my palms and pushing them into the ground, looking up at him. "It's done with, Poe. I already told you that."

He's bristling like a threatened bear, but it doesn't stop him from pushing his palm into my lower back. "Straighten your back," he grumbles. "If you're going to stretch, do it properly."

"Your man-bun is wonky," I quip, hissing when my hamstrings burn. "Hey, that hurts!"

"Oh quit your complaining."

I unbend and stand up straight, tossing him a dirty look. "Go stretch your client." 

He frowns and looks toward the woman currently spread-eagled on the grass. "Hey, I'm working on it, all right?"

I laugh. "Hey, it's that---Charlie?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact it is."

"You're losing your magic there, Poe."

He scoffs and loops his arm around my neck, hauling me in. "I am not losing my magic, Johnson." He leads me back up toward his client, roughing up my ponytail. "And if I ever do, you must tell me."

"Well that would be an injustice to female eyes everywhere, now wouldn't it?"

"Very true," he agrees, releasing me when we finally reach his workout area. "Charlie, this is my good friend, Rey."

She smiles coyly, her pretty face flushing. "I've heard a lot about you."

"I bet," I laugh, backing away slowly. "Well, I'll leave you guys to it, then. I have to get back to work. It was mice to meet you, Charlie."

"And you!"

I flip Poe an approving look before turning and jogging my way back home. 

* * *

I glug back a pint of water and toss my iPod into the fruit basket before throwing the double doors open and breathing in some more air. Making my way to the secret spot in my courtyard, I push my way through the leaves of the willow tree and land in the deckchair, stretching my legs while checking my phone.

I have recently received a text message from Ben. I open it quickly.

_Running with a hard-on is fucking painful as hell._

I laugh loudly and relax back in my chair, daydreaming for a few minutes as I run through yesterday and this morning. Ben runs every single morning, which means I ought to have, too. Will half an hour every day be part of our ongoing routine?

I want to be grumpy about it, but I can't, not when it means that 1) I'll get to see Ben and 2) I'll tone up in the process. We just might have to think about where he run to avoid being seen together.

I start to punch out a reply to him, but I'm interrupted halfway through my message when my phone rings. I don't recognize the number.

"Rey Johnson," I announce when I answer.

"Yes, Miss Ryan, my name is Enric Pryde, CEO of Pryde's Construction."

"Oh, hello." I sit up straight in my chair, wondering why a world-renowned tech company would be calling little old me. "How can I help you, sir?" I'm raging with curiosity.

"We're expanding, building new premises, and we've heard your name on the grapevine. I'm hoping that we could meet to discuss."

They've heard of my name? "Of course!" I rush into the kitchen and grab for my diary. "When is a convenient time for you, Mr. Pryde?"

"The sooner the better. Today?"

I wince. My day is packed, especially after yesterday when I achieved a great big fat zero in the studio. "Could we do tomorrow perhaps?"

"I'm sorry; I know it's such a short notice, but we've already seen others and hope to make a decision very soon so that the project can move forward."

I bite my lip and bite the bullet. This is too good of an opportunity. "How about two o'clock?"

"Two o'clock it is, then. We're floor ten, 25 Churchill Place, Canary Wharf."

I quickly scribble it down in my diary. "Excellent. I'll see you then." I hang up and the message I'd half-typed out in reply to Ben appears on my screen.

_Morning sex would remedy....._

But I delete it instead of finishing it and sending it. Because that would just be reminding him that there will be no morning sex in this relationship, and I don't want him to feel as grumpy as me at that nothing. I pout, bringing my phone to my mouth and chewing on the corner.

No morning sex yet, but when? No snuggling in bed and simply being together, either. I stamp those thoughts away and run into my office ready to hit Google and research Pryde's in preparation for the meeting.

I walk into the building that houses Pryde's, gazing around at the impressive space, not quite believing that I'm even here. Everyone knows that Pryde's is the giant in the tech world. That they dazzle with their innovative approach to marketing and development. What I didn't know is that this project, the new offices, is a move being made after Pryde's announced that they're launching a partnership with the world's largest social media platforms.

To say I'm intimidated by this meeting would be a slight understatement. But, as I've reminded myself countless times, while their area of expertise to tech, mine s designing buildings. And that's what I'm here to potentially do.

I step inside the elevator with a guy and scan the list of companies on the wall sign to the side. "What floor, love?" he asks.

"Ten, please? I answer, my scanning eyes freezing when I make more the companies that operate from floor ten. "What?" I say out loud, my mouth going dry. I look up to see we're at floor eight already. "Oh no," I squeak, turning back to face the doors just as they slide open and reveal the biggest silver engraved sign saying, BEN SOLO CONTRACTORS, above a sign that says PRYDE'S. They share a floor?"

"You okay there, love?" the man asks, waiting for me to exit. No. No, I'm most certainly not okay.

I force myself out of the elevator, looking cautiously around, not quite believing that I've found myself in Ben's office. It's modern, smart, and impressive. Just like Ben.

I announce myself at Pryde's reception, then take a seat in the waiting area, unable to stop my eyes from flitting everywhere nervously. He might not be here. He might not even be here. He might be out for a meeting. I'm scanning the space again, reaching up and loosening the floral tasseled scarf that I have wrapped around my neck.

I feel like I'm suffocating. I can't deny that I would love to see him, but I can't promise that I'll be able to keep my hands to myself. Is he even here?

And like he's heard me ask, a door across the waiting area suddenly opens and Ben walks out, fastening his suit jacket. Good lord, he looks too delicious for his own good, his charcoal-grey suit pristine, his tie perfectly knotted, and his black hair a sexy mess.

Fucking hell. He looks straight at me, like he knew that I'd be here, and then it occurs to me; he _did_ know that I'd be here.

Ben strides forward with purpose until he comes to a stop before my seated form. His hand comes up and cups his chin, stroking down his scruff as he stares at me. "Rey", he rasps, making my heart gallop and my tummy flutter. He presents his hand. "Good to see you."

I briefly close my eyes to gather myself. He needs to stop saying my name out loud, and I really shouldn't entertain his prompt to make physical contact with him.

I'm already struggling to cool down my rising temperature before I completely burst into flames at his feet. "You too," I push myself to my feet and place my hand in his, for no other reason than the receptionist will think it rather odd if I don't.

I immediately go stiff from head to toe when he locks me in his grasp, squeezing gently, his brown eyes dancing. "Gotcha," he whispers.

My mouth drops open a little, and I quickly and discreetly reclaim my hand and look away from him before I give myself away. "Don't say that, Ben," I warn seriously, at risk of self-combusting. I look up through my lashes and catch hi mild grin. "You knew that I'd be here."

"I recommended you." He shrugs like it's nothing.

"Why would you do that?"

He leans forward, bringing his face close to mine. "Or maybe because I wanted to lure you here under false pretends so that I could fuck you over my desk."

My mouth falls open in shock and my panicked eyes quickly scope the surroundings. "I _really_ should slap the hell out of you for even saying that," I retort indignantly when I've ensured no one's within earshot.

He laughs softly. "But we both know that you won't. I recommended you because you are an amazing architect and I just know you can pull this off. Plus, my company will be doing the build so it means I'll get to see more often."

I narrow suspicious eyes at him. "So it's not a completely selfless move?" 

"We're all winners here." He signals me down the corridor on a cheeky grin that I can't help but match. I can't believe he's done this. "We're in Pryde's boardroom. It's the last door on the right." I take the lead, following Ben's extended arm. "And after the meeting is finished, I want you on my desk," he whispers softly into my ear, making my shoulders roll and a shudder travel down my backbone.

"You mean you're coming in to the meeting?" I ask, my alarm growing. 

I have to be all professional in front of him? Jesus Christ, I've been trying to do that since I found out that he's Lando's contractor, and I've not been very successful on that note.

"I'm coming in to the meeting, yes."

 _Oh God._ "Please don't look at me while your in there with me." 

"You're asking me to do the impossible, Rey," he says seriously, slowing to a stop when the lady from the reception desk appears again, looking apologetic. 

"Mr. Solo, your wife is on the line."

I nearly pop a back tooth with the force of my bite, discreetly looking back at Ben. His fresh face definitely takes on an edge of unease. "Tell her that I'm in a meeting." He clears his throat and overtakes me, opening the door for the boardroom and gesturing me in.


	16. Chapter 16

I wander past Ben, glancing up at him. He smiles, but it's small and strained. I hate that just the very mention of his wife wipes away all the sparkle in his eyes that I love so much. It makes me want to take him and run away, to get him away from the source of his misery. And now.... _my_ misery, too.

The boardroom is big, a huge table taking up nearly all the space, with at least thirty executive chairs positioned around it. There's a projector screen on the far wall and a sideboard loaded with glass bottles of water and platters of cakes.

Dopheld is sitting at the table already, along with three other suited men and a woman. 

"Rey, you know Dopheld, already," Ben says. "And this is Enric, who I believe you spoke with over the phone."

Enric nods, his eyes gleaming at me as he stands and offers his hand. "Pleasure to finally meet you, Rey," he says around a big, toothy grin. "Ben's told us wonderful things about you."

I laugh, slightly uncomfortable, feeling my cheeks flush. I bet he has. "It's nice to meet you as well, Enric," I reply, accepting his hand.

His delight eyes take in my form, and I look at Ben when I heat a low, throaty growl emanate from his direction. His eyes, narrowed to slits, are trained on Enric. 

"These are my partners, Canady, Peavey and their PA, Lanzora Garan." Enric motions to the two men seated next to him, and then to the lady. I shake hands with them all and take a seat as Lanzora pours everyone a glass of water and sets some plates and the cakes between us on the table.

Her smile is friendly and her fifties-style glasses suit her heart-shaped face perfectly. Ben slips his jacket off and hangs it on the back of his chair---the chair directly opposite me. He lowers to the seat and begins rap his pen on the leather-bound writing pad before him.

He smiles, the smile that's so dazzling and genuine, it makes me smile, too. "You've got this," he mouths across the table.

My nerves vanish just like that, and the fact that he's here suddenly fills me with immense comfort and ease. I've just fallen for him a little more.

"Guys." Ben looks to the men from Pryde's. "We're working with Rey for the first time on a few art gallery in Clapham." He then pushes the drawings across the table towards them, and they all look down with hums of praise. Like he's read my thoughts, he glances toward me, a secret smile hiding behind his professional front. "She's diverse, hugely talented, and passionate about what she does."

I melt all over the chair, and Ben breathes in, holding my eyes for perhaps a moment longer that should be acceptable for business associates.

"She won't disappoint." He clears his throat and realigns his focus. "I assure you."

I just stare across the table in silent awe, watching his mouth move as he speaks. He looks so fucking sexy, relaxed back in his chair, reeling off words that are making me fall harder and harder for him. He recommended me. He set this whole thing up, gave me this amazing opportunity.

He takes his phone from his pocket and spins it in his hand. "So guys," Ben waves his mobile between me and the people from Pryde's. "Over to you. This is a long-term project. We need to get it off to a good start."

His brown eyes meet mine fleetingly, and I frown across the table at him, my head tilting. _Long-term. Best start_. My brain threatens to go off on a tangent, but I quickly rein it in.

I can't allow myself to think beyond today. I cough and realign my focus, set on nailing my meeting. "so, tell me a little about the project," I say, giving the other people in the room my undivided attention. "Your partnership with a giant social media company means expansion." 

"Yes. We've acquired a plot of land in Blackfriars," Enric says, pushing over a portfolio towards me. "It has planning permission for a ten-story building, our new home."

I open the folder and scan the details---square footage, surrounding buildings, et cetera, happy to see other modern buildings in close proximity to the space. "You want to stand out." I state it as a fact, because I know it is. Pryde's has an ego as big as it shares prices. Fucking huge.

Enric smiles. "So, can you make us stand out?"

"You mean make you the envy of every single company operating within the area?" I ask, closing the file.

I hear Ben laugh softly and Dopheld smiles, as well as Enric. "If that's how you'd like to out it." He links his fingers together and lays them across this broad tummy, his smile widening.

I return it. "No point beating around the bush, is there, Enric?"

Ben coughs and my eyes shoot across the table, finding him clenching his big hand around his tumbler of water, and as he lifts his glass to his lips he glances at me, his lips straight with displeasure. 

"Your top priorities for a new home of Pryde's?" I ask, pulling my attention back to the team of people that I'm trying to sell myself to. He's feeling threatened, and while it's quite an amusing sight, I can't let it distract me.

"Light and space," Canady answers. "Clinical, clean and modern. When it comes to the interior people getting involved, we plan on having open working spaces to connect the entire company, but with clear distinction between department. That gives you a good indication on the theme we're going for. We're excited to see what you come up with."

I smile and start making notes, my mind going into overdrive and building. Pryde's in my head as I sit here. "Outside space?"

"Definitely. Take indoors outdoors."

I visualize a courtyard in the center of the building connecting all four sides, every floor visible from every part of the structure. "Do you have any leaning toward a sustainable energy-efficient ethos?"

"Of course."

I nod, happy with his answer. "I'd need to research the surroundings in regards to landscaping and orientation, et cetera."

"We can arrange a site meeting, no problem," Enric says. "Now let me ask you a few questions, Rey." 

"Fire away, sir." I smile and get ready to sell myself hard. 

* * *

I'm positively buzzing once the people of Pryde's have shown us out of their boardroom. "Great job, Rey," Dopheld says as he wanders off. "They'd be incredibly stupid not to give you the opportunity."

"Thanks, Dopheld." I turn, ready to say a professional good-bye to Ben, but just as I draw breath, my arm is seized and I'm suddenly pushed down the corridor urgently. "What the _hell_ are you doing?" I gasp, my cautious eyes darting warily.

"We need to de-brief?"

"We do?"

"Oh, yes, sweetheart. We do."

My whole body is instantly singing with need. And my mind is racked with worry. "Ben, what if someone sees us?"

"They won't."

He opens a door, pushes me inside, and locks it behind us. I swing around and find Ben yanking the buckle of his belt undone as he stalks towards me. He looks coiled with desperation and ready to explode, and my body is responding--my heart thumping, my tummy twisting, and a pulse kicking between my thighs.

I gasp when he grabs me around the waist and carries me over to a desk. He sits me on the wood and pushes me back, lifts my dress, and spreads my thighs. Oh fuck!

He moves in and cups my cheeks, sealing our lips and kissing me hungrily. My body temperature rockets, and I'm instantly in the game, feeling my way to the tops of his trousers and unfastening them. 

"That was the most powerful hour of my fucking life," he mumbles, licking and bite his way up my cheek.

"More painful than running with a raging hard-on?" I ask, pushing his trousers down his thighs before slipping my hand into the top of his boxers. I grab his cock and squeeze, reveling in the heat and hardness of his smooth, velvety flesh. 

He jerks on a groan, releasing my lips and resting his forehead against mine, blinking slowly. "I'm in pain whenever we're not touching or fucking," he says softly, dragging his thumb across my swollen bottom lip. His eyes close as I draw my palm down his erection, his forehead becoming wet on mine. "Have you any idea how you make me feel?"

I smile on the inside, wondering if it's as alive as he make me feel. "I think I do," I reply, rolling my thumb around the pulsing head of his cock, spreading the pre-cum moisture settling there.

His hand comes down and grips mine for a second before he pulls it away and hauls me to the very edge of the wood. "Are you going to let me fuck you on my desk now?" 

He pushes my knickers to the side and nudges at my opening teasingly. The heat is almost unbearable.

"Do I really have a choice in the matter" My head drops back, my hands weaving through the hair at his nape as he pushes his way inside me. 

"No, you don't," he admits on a long exhale, edging in that little bit more. 

"God, that feels so fucking good, Ben." I breathe.

Ben does this to me. He makes me forget everything, consumes me to a point that I even forget my own name. He brings his hands to my ass and tugs me forward until we're locked together, deepening our connection. My head falls forward finding his for support.

Slowly, he widens his stance, pulling out before plunging forward again, repeating his move in a steady, meticulous flow. The relentless pleasure of him stroking my inner walls leaves no space for anything but that. 

Indescribable, mind-numbing pleasure. I lock my ankles around his lower back, hoping to pull him even deeper. 

"Does that feel good, baby?" His soft words are a caress, and I nod against him, unable to catch a breath to voice my answer. Ben mirrors my nod, swaying into me while his palms cup my bottom and pull me gently forward, meeting his advances perfectly every time.

We're both so close, the clothes between us not taking even a tiny bit away from our intimacy. I let my hands roam across his damp neck, slipping across his pale skin, molding and squeezing softly. 

"You're pulsing." he whispers, obviously feeling me clenching tightly around him. "You'll have to be quiet when you cum, Rey."

My breathing becomes erratic as the signs of my orgasm steam forward. "Kiss me, Ben," I demand, pushing my lips to his and forcing my tongue into his mouth, urgency overtaking me.

"Slowly," he orders, sweeping through my mouth delicately, matching his hard drives. My legs begin to tense around his waist, my back straightening and pushing my front harder into his.

He nips at the tip of my tongue, and then buries his face in my face. I take his lead and do the same, sinking my face into his shirt where his shoulder meets his neck, panting vigorously. We're locked in a cuddle, his arms now wrapped around my waist, mine around his shoulders, as he thrusts us both over the edge.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum," he mumbles into me, freezing and holding himself deep and he floods my walls and paints them white with his essence. 

My moan of release is muffled and long, my body convulsing in his firm hold, the pressure draining right out of me on delicious satisfying pulses. I'm clinging to him tightly, hiding in his neck, loving the feel of us locked so tightly together.

"Oh wow," I breathe, my face sticky with sweat. I feel him jerking a little on a silent laugh, squeezing me to the point where I can't breathe.

"That was a very welcome midafternoon pick-me-up for sure, damn," he says, making me smile. I pat his back ease myself out of his hold, wincing when he slips free. 

He places a light kiss on the corner of my mouth as he breathes in, and I gaze around the impressive pace, taking in his office. "So, this is where you work?"

"This is where I work," he confirms, smiling at me as he releases me and sorts his trousers out before handing me a tissue.

"Thanks." I slide off his desk, grimace as I wipe between my thighs, and pull my knickers and dress back into place. I look at the tissue on a frown and Ben laughs, taking it from my hand and throwing it into the bin next to his desk. I grab my slouchy bag and sling it over my shoulder. "This is all a bit risky."

He almost scowls, his lovely face narrowing a touch. "It was either here on on the boardroom table in front of everyone." He buckles his belt and steps into me, smiling at my blushing cheeks as he runs the pad of his thumb over one. "Though Pryde might have enjoyed that."

I press my lips together. "Did you just growl, Ben Solo?"

"He fancies you. I'll be keeping an extra close eye on him from now on." He plants a chaste kiss on my lips and starts to walk me to the door, but we both come to an alarmed stop when the handle starts jiggling. I look up at him, hoping he might clue me in on who it might be so I can assess how panicked I need to be. He looks blank.

"Ben?" Gwen's yell hits me like a bullet to my temple. His mouth drops open. I immediately begin to shake. "Ben, you in there?"

"Oh fuck," he breathes, staring at the door as the handle continues to rattle. I clench my eyes shut and try to breathe though my panic. "This way," he grates, taking my arm and pulling me across his office toward a door. "I'll get rid of her. Just give me two minutes."

"We work together, Ben," I whisper-hiss. "We could just be having a meeting."

"With the door locked?" he asks, tugging me along. He's right: that would look so dodgy, and actually, I don't want to face Gwen. I'll probably shake before her with nerves, guilt and a million other things.

He pulls a door open and ushers me inside. To complete darkness. I swing around and glare at him. "A fucking closet?" I hiss, outraged, but unable to refuse what he's suggesting.

He gives a pained face---a sorry face---before he shuts the door and I'm alone in the dark. Fucking brilliant!

"Ben?" I hear Gwen shout again, and then his phone starts ringing. "I know you're in there now open the damn door!"

I suck in a breath in an attempt to keep silent. I hear his office swing open. "Hey," Ben greets her, super chirpy. And guilty. 

"What the hell is going on?" Gwen sounds affronted, and I wilt on the spot, expecting her to come charging through the door that's keeping me out of sight, out of mind, at any moment. 

"It's been pure chaos around here today," he reels off with ease. "I was trying to get some peace so I can work through some figures."

I sag against the wall. "I see," I hear Gwen say, and in my mind's eyes, she gazing around his office suspiciously. My anxiety nearly chokes me as I remain deathly skill, dying inside.

"So what brings you here?" Ben asks, his footsteps getting louder. He's walking to his desk? _Good lord, don't lead her this way!_

"It's been such a stressful morning, Ben!" she wails.

"I'm sorry to hear that. What happened?" he practically sighs. There's no concern whatsoever in his tone at all. 

"Well, I was supposed to have lunch today with Mara." Gwen's voice gets louder, telling me she's following Ben toward his desk. I close my eyes even though I'm in complete darkness. A chair creaks. She's sat herself own. "And she's canceled on me!"

"And that's awful?" Ben breathes.

"Well, yes," Gwen snipes harshly. "She said she had an appointment that she forgot about, but I know for a fact that she's having lunch with her new friend from yoga class."

"Gwen, she's probably canceled because she really does have an appointment."

"I'm not stupid, Benjamin. Her new friend doesn't like me. She just wants Mara all to herself!"

I frown, opening my eyes and scanning the blackness of my confined space. She sounds completely unreasonable. There's a brief silence lingering, and in that time, I build a mental image of her staring at Ben across his desk.

"So what do you want me to do about it?" Ben asks simply.

"Well, I don't know!" Gwen huffs. "Mara's _my_ friend, and I'm not going to let some interloper just push me out of that friendship, thinking she can take over my spot!"

My mind twists as my wide eyes stare into my darkness. Gwen sounds like some pathetic teenager. Whoever Mara is, I feel super sorry for her. I hear Ben breath in, clearing trying to gather some patience.

"She's allowed more than just one friend, Gwen."

"No, she is not, Ben! It's always been me and her! _Always!"_

"Gwen, I haven't got time to babysit all of your friendships, all right? I have work to do."

"No, you don't have time for anything other than work, do you?!"

"How else am I going to pay for the life to which you've become so accustomed to, Gwen? Get yourself a job if your that miserable. Do something other than worry about who your friends are friends with!"

She gasps, truly horrified and clearly offended. "Me? Work? I don't think so. What would people think?" I stare at the door, flummoxed. "Anyway," she goes on, that obviously the end of that conversation. "I was thinking that you can finish work early. We'll have dinner together. Someplace nice?"

She sounds hopeful. I close my eyes and as much as I don't want to, I let the flood of guilt wash over me and scrub at my skin restlessly. Because no matter what way you look at this, what I'm doing is still wrong. What Ben is doing is wrong.

How we're both feeling is wrong. A harsh dose of my reality has just been rammed down my throat. I hope it chokes me to death. I deserve it.

I look around my prison, feeling hopeless and deplorable and immortal.

"Sure," Ben finally answers after what seems like an eternity. "That would be nice."

"Great!" She sounds so happy despite the lack of enthusiasm in Ben's voice. A knife wedges itself in my chest and twists repeatedly.

And I accept the pure agony surging through me. Because I know I deserve it. But I'm not delusional. Knowing you're going something so terrible wrong doesn't make it easy to stop.

* * *

I snuggle down on the couch under my blanket and stare at the wall. I'm living in hell and in heaven. I'm flying and I'm drowning. I can't walk away from him. It's that simple, if fucking horrendously complicated.

Maybe the guilt is something I'll just have to get used to. At least the guilt tells me I still have a conscience. It's a small consolation, and maybe a little irrelevant, since I don't plan on clearing it. Clearing my conscious means no Ben, and no Ben isn't an option.

I've tumbled hard, fast and furiously for him. Unstoppably, I've finally fallen for a man--a forbidden man. A man that I shouldn't have.

In an attempt to stop my mind from dwelling on my fuck-up of a situation. I grab for my laptop and try to focus on work. I get into my stride, researching the area of Blackfriars where Pryde's has bought their land and make endless notes, my vision for their new building getting clearly as I work. 

When I hear a light rapping at the door, I check the time, surprised to see I've had my head down for nearly three hours. Pulling the door open, I find Ben looking anxious, and he visibly deflates before my eyes as he takes me in.

"Aren't you supposed to be somewhere right now?" I ask as I hold the door open.

"Are you okay?" There's no umbrage lacing his tone after my reminder that he has a romantic dinner planned out with his wife.

I shake my head, my bottom lip trembling. This is something else I promised myself. I told myself that I wouldn't cry on him from now on, but I feel too fraught, hopeless, and exhausted to fight it off. I was on cloud nine, being worshipped by Ben on is desk, and then I was in the deepest depths of hell, locked in a cupboard in his office wrestling with my conscience.

The conflict is wearing me down already. A lone tear tumbles down my cheek and splashes my arm. "I'm sorry," I whimper feebly, looking away from him. He looks beaten, as exhausted and hopeless as I do. 

"God, Rey," He comes to me, closing the door behind him, and wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into his chest. I know I shouldn't, but his warmth and closeness ease me, makes me feel safe and untouchable. Like any trauma I endure is of my hair, breathing into it. "No, it's me who should be sorry here. I never should have risked putting you into that situation. I was reckless--I didn't think."

Maybe he's right, but I didn't refuse him when he dragged me to his office. I didn't say no or fight him off. Snatching moments with him here and there whenever I can is how it needs to be, and what was a moment. An amazing moment...until his wife turned up.

"So where's Gwen" I ask quietly. 

"She's at her parents." He pulls away from me and takes my hand, leading me into the kitchen. At her parents? What happened to that romantic dinner with her husband?

"Sit down," Ben orders gently, guiding me to a chair. I watch as he fills the kettle and boils it, finding his way around my kitchen with ease. As if he belongs here. With me. 

He takes a seat and slides a cup of tea towards me. I smile on my thanks, wrapping both palms around the mug. "Talk to me," he says gently.

"What do you want me to say, Ben?"

"Tell me what you're thinking?"

I look away from him, trying to escape his probing, but he reaches across the table and takes my chin, forcing me back. When he gives me a high, expectant eyebrows, I lamely shrug.

"Rey, look I understand that all of this is hard for you." 

"Do you?"

"Of course, I do. You're a gorgeous, young, single woman. You could go out tonight, right now, and have your pick of the thousands of men out there."

"But I don't want any of the thousands of men out there, Ben," I admit quietly, spelling it out for him, loud and clear.

"You want me?"

I look at him carefully, wondering where he's taking this. Is he asking me to demand that he leave his wife right this very minute? I can't do that. Call me stupid, but he has to make that move himself. "I don't really understand where you're going with this."

"Do you want me?"

"Yes." I don't hesitate.

Ben nods, relieved, and squeezes his hand. "I just needed to hear you say it again." He swallows, and I don't like the deep breath he draws, like he's psyching himself up to tell me something. "I just didn't want to burden you with every crappy detail of my shit, Rey, but I'm scared to death that you're going to talk your way into leaving me."

Every crappy detail? I don't like the sound of this. Besides, I know enough. "I think the less I know, the better off," I protest, desperate to keep my connection with his wife, his life beyond me, as limited as possible.

His face is pleading with me to let him. "I need you to understand, Rey."

And this time I don't protest, seeing his need plain and clear as day on his face. He _wants_ me to know. 


	17. Chapter 17

"I was doing so well building up my business. Gwen's father was one of my very first clients, and I met her during the project." He shrugs. "She was nice enough, in the beginning. Her father was relentless in his attempts to get us together. He was a valuable client with a huge ego. Gwen and I started dating, and it wasn't long before she started pushing for marriage. My business was the perfect excuse to out that off. I told her I wanted a more solid foundation, to get at break-even point. I was hoping to buy myself some time, because I didn't know what I wanted then. I wasn't sure if she was the right woman for me. Then her father offered up cash for investments and...." He shakes his head.

I knew this was so hard for him, but I was so thankful that he was going put of his way in telling me, even if it hurt me in the process. And that meant more to me than he could possibly know.

"Well, problem solved. I realize now how spineless I was. I'd be where I am now even without Gwen's father's money involved. It all ran away with me."

He smiles, but there's a sad edge to it. It breaks my heart, for no other reason than he's clearly filly of regrets. I can't help feeling like his savoir in a weird, fucked up kind of way.

"So you married her."

He swallows hard and looks down into his mug. "Yeah, I married her. I got so caught up in the arrangements, convincing myself I was doing what was right. I knew I'd made a huge mistake only a few months later. I paid her father back the money he lent me, but it was too late to give his daughter back. My business became my escape. Escape from the suppression, control, and...." He drifts off and takes a deep breath. "And my wife. There's no happy medium with her. There's no bearable middle ground."

"Why didn't you just go back to the States?"

He scoffs as he looks at me and replies, "Go back to the States? For what? Both my parents are dead, I have no friends there. Why do you think I came to the UK? It was to escape all of that. To escape the life that I once had? There was nothing left for me there, and meeting Gwen felt like an escape, at least in the beginning. She's done...."

"She's done what, Ben?" I press, not like the internal battle he's clearly having in trying to tell me. "Tell me, Ben. She's done what?"

He looks away, obviously gathering strength form somewhere. He looks beaten. "I didn't want to give you the dirty details." He gives me his eyes again, and I see a million problems within them. A million woes. I know I'm going to hate what I hear. 

He must read the questions in my eyes, because he continues without my prompt. 

"I-I've left her before."

My mouth falls open. "And you went back to her?"

"Yes, after I'd picked her up from the hospital." 

I frown, not understanding where he is going with this story. Why on earth did he have to go and pick her up at the hospital. I'm frightened now.

"She took a knife to her wrist."

"Oh my God!" I gasp, recoiling in my chair. "That's emotional blackmail, Ben!"

"Maybe. I might mot love the woman, but I don't wish her any harm." He slumps back in his chair, taking his palms and scrubbing down his suddenly tired face. "I didn't want to tell you because it'll play havoc with your conscience. It would just be another reason for you to leave me."

Play havoc with my conscience? Is he serious right now? Because there's not enough playing havoc with it already? My heart sinks.

"You're trapped," I whisper softly. _We're_ trapped. There's no way out. Gwen has ahold of him and he can't leave her because of what she might do to herself.

And I wouldn't want him to. That would make me inhuman, and despite everything I've done, all of my wrongs, I'm not a wicked person. I don't wish her harm, either. I couldn't live with myself if she did. Ben just looks at me, and I see the torment in his eyes. And the guilt. 

It's still there. Guilt for feeling this. Guilt for not loving his wife. He grabs my hands with force, gritting his teeth. "You make me happy, Rey," he grates. "So fucking happy!" 

He's getting worked up, and it's so upsetting to see how utterly frustrated he is. How hopeless he feels. His wife knows just what to do in order to keep him at her side. Because it's worked before.

I hold on to my emotions as best as I can. My situation hasn't changed. It's the exact same, but the stakes have now been raised. I can't imagine what Gwen will do if she finds out about us....which means I have to ensure that she doesn't. I feel the tears of despair getting the better of me and use every scrap of strength that I have to keep them at bay.

I won't be walking away. Not before, and most definitely not now. Ben promised me he wouldn't let me go again if the Fates ever brought me back to him.

Well, they did bring me back, and they brought me back for a reason. I can't control my feelings for him. I can't stop them. I love him and he loves me. He's supposed to be mine.

I need to free him from this nightmare, not for my own selfish reasons, but because he doesn't deserve this. He should have what he wants in life, and if I am everything that he wants, then I have to help him have me.

"We will be together, Rey," he vows. "No matter what. Come hell or high water, we will be together."

I get up from my chair and walk around to him, putting myself on his lap and showing him where I'm at. With him. Always with him. And I believe him completely. Yes, we _will_ be together. But at what cost?

_Four months later...…._

I have never thought that I'd be the kind of person to settle for next best and only having a tiny piece of Ben is next best. But it's a sacrifice I've had to make....at least for now. A sacrifice that I've somehow learned to cope with until we're both ready to face to the shit storm that'll break when he finally leaves her for good.

In the meantime, we snatch moments here and there, meeting in hotel rooms on the occasional odd afternoon and running together in the morning at the park. 

The runs mean no touching, which is extremely hard, but mostly I just love to be with him, around him. To talk and laugh and forget reality, even for just half an hour. It's a constant challenge to keep our relationship secret at work---the looks that pass between us, the desperation to barge everyone out of our paths and throw ourselves at each other, damn anyone who's watching us.

The sneaky touches, the private jobs. I loved my job before. Now, with Ben by my side on the projects that we're working on together, its truly amazing. 

I've found that I seek his council. I ask him for his opinions and whether ideas that I have can work. Knowing it's Ben who is bringing so many of ideas makes them more than _just_ a project. They're now all part of our story. We're building more than just feelings and love.

I eventually won the contract with Pryde's. Ben made sure of it, singing my praises at every opportunity. I wasn't about to let him down now. The drawings were passed with only a few minor amendments, and he made a point of delivering the news before Pryde did. He called me while I was on my way to a meeting, and hearing how excited he was for me about made me want to cry.

Tears trickled down my cheeks as I stood at the entrance of Warren Street station. It's my biggest project to date, and a huge addition to my portfolio. I always seem to be buzzing these days....until I think about _her_ and the dirt tarnishing my overall happiness. 

There's been no mention of what happens next and when. When Ben and I are together, we need not to focus on the depressing subjects....like his wife. Like how his day has been. I don't even need to ask. I see it on his face for a fleeting second every time I see him, before he breathes in deeply and throws his arms around me.

And in that moment, everything is better again. I'm following Ben's lead, trusting him completely...…

Because there's simply no denying it at this point, I'm so hopelessly in love with him. I can't make this any harder for him than it clearly already is. As much as I try not to, I've become more and more dependent on Ben, and how he makes me feel, the encouragement and support that he gives me. 

The sheer devotion he lavishes me with, too. But he's not wholly mine. I've promised myself never to give him that ultimatum. I won't make demands and throw my weight around. 

He deals with that enough already. Besides, my fucked-up inner self never wants him to have the opportunity in our future to throw out the words, _"I left my wife for you!"_ in my face. Cell me stubborn. Call me nonsensical. I don't care what. 

Then again maybe I'm a glutton for punishment. Or maybe I'm protecting whatever shreds of integrity that I have left in me. Somehow, and I don't know how, I've managed to keep the fact that I've fallen madly in love with a married man from my friends. They wouldn't understand. I've seen the reactions of people who have found out about affairs. 

They tarnish each other and every adulterer with the same brush. I accept that many affairs are based on nothing more than casual sex---something new and exciting and daring in a life of complete boredom and discontent.

But what about the people who meet that little bit too late and share something truly special like Ben and I do? Are we supposed to let that person pass on by, turn away from someone who finds your soul and kisses it? Makes you feel almost..... _complete._ I just know in my heart of hearts that Ben Solo is my soulmate. He's the missing piece of me. Without him now, I'd be totally lost.

It's as simple as that. Call it wrong. Call it utterly sinful. I just can't turn my back on the man that I love. I just can't do it to him, and I can't do it to myself. That's my reality. A reality that I now accept. I've been busy keeping up with all my projects. Today, I'm on Lando's site overseeing the installation of my spectacular glass roof. 

Each individual pane of glass has been cut in France and shipped across the Channel. I'm praying that they've made it here without any damage, and as I stand on the street watching the lorry rumble up the road toward us, I frown.

"Wait, I thought we specified a HIAB lorry," I say, looking at one of Ben's men, Hux, standing next to me. He's a crabby sod, but Ben reminds me daily when I gripe about him, he's a good worker, and he knows what he's doing.

"The HIAB broke down over in Dover." He makes hos way toward the lorry, guiding it down the narrow street. 

"Great," I mutter, following him. "Then we need to leave the panes on the lorry until the crane gets here."

"No, can do, love."

"Yes, can do!" I argue indignantly. "Those glass panes cost a fucking fortune!"

He ignores me and whistles, getting the attention of the driver of a small forklift. "Around the back, mate!"

"You are not moving my roof with that thing, Solo!" I gawk at Hux, between panic and anger. "And where's my fucking crane?!" I shout, completely losing my shit. 

"He's caught in traffic over in Westminster," Hux says, unperturbed by my hissy fit.

"Hux, I don't think you're even hearing me," I calm my tone and try to reason with him as best as I can. "This roof is extra special."

"And I don't think you're hearing me, Rey," he argues back, much calmer than me, as the delivery wagon comes to a complete stop. "This lorry is blocking the road and causing anarchy. The crane would be hours. We need to get those panes off and clear the road for the locals!"

I look up at the packaged glass, praying to ever transpiration god that there is that they're all still in one piece. If the roof as to be re-ordered, it'll blow the schedule _and_ the budget all to pieces. 

"If this goes wrong, the haulage firm will seriously wish they'd never met me." I'm speaking hypothetically, obviously, since the haulage company hasn't _actually_ ever met me before. 

Hux laughs. "Have some faith." He then pulls on his safety gloves. "Up!" he yells to his forklift driver.

I watch with baited breath as he first pane gets negotiated from the back of the lorry, a dozen men spread around the sheet to control it as it's shifted to the side of the pavement. "You're just going to dump them there?" I ask incredulously. "On the bloody side of the road like a pile of trash?!"

Oh, shitting hell, this isn't good at all. I don't like where this is heading. Nope, I don't like this at all. 

"Where else do you suggest that we put them then?"

"Oh the fucking roof where they are supposed to go you blithering idiot!" 

"I don't think the crane is going to reach Westminster, love."

I yell, frustrated, and grab my phone, dialing the plant hire firm. "Rey Johnson," I announce, stomping over to the first pane as it's lowered to the ground. "I should've had a crane in Clapham nearly two hours ago and it isn't here."

"It's stuck in West--"

"Yes, yes, I know it's stuck in Westminster," I say lowly, my jaw tense. "But that doesn't help me out one bit, now, does it?"

"Well, I can't control the traffic in city, sweetheart."

"Don't you 'sweetheart' me. What time did it leave the depot?" There's silence, and I scowl down the line. "And don't fob me off with traffic jams when you failed to dispatch with enough time to make it to the bloody site!" I know how these hire companies operate. "I have a bespoke glass roof blocking the road. I need to get this roof on by the end of the day, and if that doesn't happen, I'll be heading in your way." 

I hang up before he is able to give me any sort of attitude, wincing as I watch Hux pull back some of the protective packaging that's keeping my roof safe.

"Oh God, please tell me it's in one piece," I beg him.

"One down, three to go," He turns and smiles onto me, and I bring my hands together in front of my face and look to the sky.

Then I jump when I feel someone at my ear. "Site safety first, Rey. Where's your hard hate?" Ben's voice wipes away ninety percent of my stress, even if it's slightly scolding. 

"I'm having an absolute disaster with the roof." I turn around to face him, scanning the surrounding area for peeking eyes, so that I know how friendly I can be.

Just when I think the coast is clear, I spot Dopheld wandering down the street, returning my eyes to Ben. He's spotted Dopheld, too, and has also moved back a step. 

"So, where's the crane?" Ben asks, clearing his throat.

"It's stuck in Westminster."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dopheld chuck something in the skip and make his back to the building. Ben sags a little when he's out of sight. "I've fucking missed you this week, Rey," he declares, sounding a little despondent.

As always he seems so worn down, I stop and wonder what he's contended with to make him sound do disheartened. But only for a second, because I try not think about this wife and focus on the fact that I can make Ben feel better. It's been a long, busy week for both of us, except we haven't been busy with each other, either at work or privately. It's positively sucked.

It's not really that long, but millions of years, too. That's a problem that I'm beginning to fear now. I want to be with him, see him every day. Every hour. Ever minute.

"Can you make it to the St. James's Hotel for four-thirty?" he asks hopefully.

"Yes, I think so." I confirm, as if there would be any other answer. "I'll climb up on top of this extension and get the roof on myself if I have to."

He laughs lightly, the low, sexy sound, as always, bringing a huge smile to my face. Ben's laugh are like melted chocolate--smooth, sweet and insanely addictive. I just can't get enough of them.

"No need." He claps his hands loudly and whistles to Hux, pointing down the road.

I look over my shoulder and gasp. "My crane!" I screech, watching it round the corner up ahead. "My crane is ahead!"

"Let's get this roof on, baby! We've got plans later." Ben says quietly, striding off towards the crane. 

I grin to myself, watching him fly into authoritative action, shouting out orders as he goes. God, what I would do to have him alone and all to myself right this very minute. I look down at the screen of my phone and start to count down the minutes to four-thirty. Damn, this is going to be a really long day. 

* * *

I run up the steps of the hotel, nodding to the bellboy as I pass, checking my phone for the room number that Ben sent to me. When I finally reach the door, I knock as desperately as I'm feeling, and then start patting down my hair and brushing down my black shift dress. I don't get nearly enough time to sort myself out after rushing over here.

The door swings open, Ben seizes my wrist, and he yanks me inside, slamming the door behind him. I yelp, startled, as I'm hauled into him. I'm yet to see him properly because everything is a blur from the speed of my movements.

"You, sweetheart, are two minutes late." He snatches my bag and tosses it aside, then dip and grabs me under my thigh, pulling me up to his body. I yelp again, but it quickly transforms into a giggle when he runs through the sitting area and launches us into the air. 

"Ben!" I scream, delirious, sinking my nails into his shoulders, which I now note are naked. 

We land on the softest bed I've ever been in, and his mouth is immediately on mine, I haven't had the chance to indulge his face yet, nor appreciate that fact that he's naked, but when I find his lips on mine, I let the looses slide. I coil every limb around him and kiss him with everything I have, filling my sense of smell with his heavenly scent. I sink into the mattress on a happy sigh, shifting my palms to his bristly cheeks and holding his face firmly. 

"Damn, I've missed this so much," he says into my mouth, moving his lips to my cheek and pecking his way up to my ear.

I flex my hips, feeling his condition push into my thigh. "I can tell." He bites my earlobe and gets himself to his knees, collecting my arms from around his neck and shoving them above my head, holding them firmly there, his torso suspended over me.

And now I have his face. His brown eyes could have fireworks exploding in then, and his smile breaks records in the brightest category. "Hello," he says simply, though low and husky and drenched with longing. Just one simply word. 

We stare at each other for the longest time, Ben suspended above me, his highs straddling my tummy, his hands holding my wrists down. And we just grin at each other, both happy to admire each other for a little while. When he raises his eyebrows, I raise mine.

When he teasingly pushes his groin into my tummy, I reciprocate by flexing my hips up. And when he seductively licks his lips, I lick mine. Both our smiles stretch even wider.

"Well done with the roof, baby," he says, keeping me restrained,

I smile under his tightening grip. "Doesn't it look fab?"

"Amazing."

"But I didn't come all this way to talk about roofs with you." I make it clear. "How long have I got you for?"

"How long do you want me?" 

My eyes narrow, and the word forever tickles the end of my tongue, waiting for it to drop. But I hold it back, unwilling to spoil our precious time together with the ache of the unknown. Besides, I'm certain he knows my answer already.

"As long as you wish to ravish me."

He nods a little. I think it's in understanding, not only to my voiced answer, but to answer I'm holding back, too. "Before we even get to ravishing, I have something for you."

He plants a chaste kiss on my lips and frees my arms, getting off the bed and strolling through to the lounge area. I prop myself up on my elbows and follow this path with my eyes, held rapt by his wide, naked back and perfect ass.

"Come on."

"But I'm already comfortable here" I complain, pouting. 

Ben looks back to me sprawled on the bed and smiles, flicking his head in silent demand that I got to him. I do, now curious of what he was in story for me. Padding my way into the separate lounge area, I find him sitting on the couch. He pats the seat next to him, and I sit down beside him, all the while keeping my questioning eyes on him. He then produces a Selfridges bag and holds it out to me.

"What's this?" I ask, gingerly accepting it.

"It's a gift. For you." He sits back and gets comfy. "Open it."

I grin down at the bag and start to pull the pink bow loose, flicking my eyes between Ben and the yellow bag as I find my way in. Once it's open, I peek inside, discovering something wrapped nearly in tissue paper. 

I pull it out, set the bag aside, and place the package on my lap, then start to peel at the stickers securing it all together. I pull the tissue paper open and find a small pile of black lace.

"You bought me underwear?" I ask, lifting the bra and holding it up.

"Do you like it?" He sounds apprehensive. 

I look at the beautiful piece, the black, delicate lace of the balcony bra hanging from the fingertips of both of my hands by the the straps. "It's....why, it's gorgeous!"

"And the knickers?" He reaches for them and holds them up, showing me. They're low-ruse lace Brazilian briefs with a pretty little gold charm at the center of the waistband. 

"I love them," I confirm.

I can sense his relief, and I conclude that Ben has never bought underwear for a woman. The notion fills me with satisfaction. I don't dare care if it doesn't even fit me, or the style doesn't suit me. Ben bought them just for me,

"And now this," He pulls a small box from behind his back and holds it out to me.

I bite my lip as I look down at hit. "Is it a special occasion or something?" I ask, keeping my eyes fixated on the box.

"Yes, in a way I suppose it is. It's been exactly four months since I first found you drunk in a bar and I licked you."

I quickly look up at him. "It is?" I'm not sure why I sound so shocked. It's flown by, yes, but I feel like it's been so much longer than that. I feel like I've known him forever. "And for the record, I wasn't drunk."

He chuckles, his brown eyes twinkling. "Of course you weren't. Open." He thrusts the box toward me and I take it, just as gingerly as I accepted the bag containing the underwear. 

"But I didn't get you a gift, Ben," I say, feeling a little guilty.

"What are you talking about? _You_ are my gift, Rey." He reaches over and slides his hand onto my cheek.

My heart instantly melts and I throw myself into his arms, unable to resist the urge to cuddle him tightly. "Thank you, Ben."

He laughs lightly, holding me as he pushes his lips to the back of my head. "You don't even know what it is yet. You might hate it."

"I won't hate," I argue, letting him detach me and push me back to my side of the couch. I pull the ribbon tie and slowly open the box, blinking when shards of sparkling light shoot out from within. 

A small hitch of air catches in my throat as I take in the bracelet. It's glistening against the black velvet cushion, and in the center there are two small diamond-encrusted words. One says "Me" and the other says "You." The two words are separated by a tiny heart. I press my lips together as I stare at it, not wanting to cry all over him. I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. 

"It's platinum and diamonds," he says quietly. 

"It's so beautiful," I breathe, running the pad of my finger the length of the precious metal. 

"I've had the fastener reinforced with a safety catch." He points to the small clip that secures it. "So that you'll never lose it." 

Slowly and carefully, he drapes the bracelet over my right wrist and fastens it. It's a perfect fit, not too lose and not too tight, with just enough room to slip two fingers between my skin and the platinum. Something comes to me, and I look at him.

"You were measuring my wrist," I say, not meaning to sound accusing. "Last week when we lay in bed, you kept circling my wrist with your fingers." 

He holds his hand up, the tip of his middle finger meeting the tip of his thumb, forming a circle. "About two inches smaller than this."

"Sneaky," I exclaim, going in for another cuddle. "I love it."

"Me and you, Rey," he whispers, constricting me in his arms. " _Always._ Just me...and you."

The happy tears I was holding back win and a few stream down my cheeks, splashing his shoulder. I hope he doesn't feel them, but when he starts pushing me out of his embrace, I fear that he has. I have no time to brush them away, especially when he's holding my wrists. I drop my eyes in a vain attempt to hide my face.

"Why are you so upset?" he asks, genuinely concerned. 

"I'm just so happy," I confess to him, shaking my head, mad with myself.

Because now my mind is going into overdrive, venturing into places that I always promised myself that I wouldn't go. If I'm this happy settling for just a tiny piece of him, then just imagine how happy I would be if I had all of him? Yet I still can't bring myself to ask him when that will be possible.

I don't want to put pressure on him. I'm dancing between two very fine lines, both of them blurred. Everything is so distorted and my mind confused. I'm not even really sure what is best for who and when.


	18. Chapter 18

This is exactly why I try not to think about it. It dampens my mood and has my mind going around in incomplete circles. I never ask about Gwen or his home life. I don't want to know, and I know Ben doesn't want me to, either. All I know is that Ben works ridiculous hours and he never stops smiling when we're together.

What happens when we're not together isn't something I can bring myself to think about. He takes my chin and lifts, forcing me to look at him. Then he leans over and rests his lips on mine.

"Go put your underwear on," he orders.

I smile on the inside, grateful for his intervention. I don't get him for nearly enough time. The last thing that I want to do when I _do_ have time for him is talk about the crappiness of out situation. It's easy like this. Our own private happiness that no one can destroy with judgements and devastation. Or suicide attempts. 

Gathering up my new underwear, I give him a peck on the cheek and make my way back through the bedroom to the bathroom. 

The space is overrun with black marble and the huge tub, which is filled with steaming, bubbly water, has a television embedded into the wall at the end. We're having a bath. Ben's naked, wet skin all over mine. I shiver with anticipation as I strip down and slip my new bra and knickers on, finding they fit like a glove.

Music suddenly begins in the bathroom, and I smile, listening to the into of Klangkarussell's "Sonnentanz." 

"Fuck me fifty shades of grey," Ben breathes, appearing in the mirror behind me. His eyes are like giant saucers. "Your ass looks fucking amazing in those."

I thrust my bum out cheekily and yelp when he slaps me clean across my left cheek. "OUCH!" I'm grabbed, whirled around, and thrust up against the mirror. My hair is yanked, my lips attacked viscously. 

I instantly meld into his body pushed up against mine, spreading my legs when his knee comes up and nudges between my thighs. I'm lifted up by my waist, my back sliding across the mirror with ease, the slight condensation coating the glass creating a slippery friction.

Ben's kiss is relentless and hungry, his moans and growls desperate. My fancy knickers are yanked to side, he levels up, and he pounds into me unforgivingly, pushing me up the mirror on a low grunt. 

My hands go straight to his hair and grip, knowing I'm going to need the support. The feel of him buried all the way to the hilt inside me send my whole world spinning wildly. He's too desperate to take it slowly. I am, too. I kiss him hard and he lets loose, smashing into me on constant shouts. I bite at his lips, pull at his hair, and scream on every hard pound.

We're loud and frenzied, fervent and messy. The depths he's achieving are both pleasurable and painful. I throw my head back and shout at the ceiling, feeling his fingers claw into the backs of my thighs harshly. 

My back is repeatedly hitting the mirror, my skin squeaking across the glass when he withdraws, before crashing forward violently again and again.

I close my eyes and focus on seizing my orgasm, feeling the pressure collecting fast. "God!" I shout on a particularly brutal drive.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks, not slowing down his brutal pace, continuing to smash me into like a depraved madman. 

"No!" I scream, dropping my head and dragging my lids open. I find his eyes are just as wild as his pace. I almost snarl, yanking at his thick mane of hair viciously. 

He grins and ups his stride, digging his fingers into my thighs further. "Are you close, Rey?"

"Yes!" My orgasm takes me by complete surprise, exploding between my thighs and robbing me of my next breath. My whole body starts to convulse uncontrollably, and my hearing becomes muffled from the pounding of my pulse in my ears.

The muscles in my neck fail and my head collapses forward onto his shoulder, the waves of an orgasm so intense ripping through my body ruthlessly. It's almost too much for me to take. I'm completely limp as Ben, still being pushed up the wall as the warmth of his seed fills me until he's rocking gently into me, gulping for oxygen. 

"Jesus Christ, that was intense," he pants, folding to the floor and taking me down with him.

I spread myself over him, my cheek against the center of his chest, my palm resting on his pecs. We stay on the hard floor of the bathroom for an age, a tangle of arms and legs, both of us heaving loudly. I feel dazed and sucked dry of energy. 

"Bath?" he asks on a labored breath, starting to fiddle with a lock of my dark hair. I hum half-hearted agreement. I can't even move. "Come." He wrestles me up from the floor and holds me up with one arm, removing my underwear with the other. 

Lifting me, he gently places me in the tub and I immediately sink down into the water, sighing my appreciation. The heat is an instant relief for my sore muscles.

"Move up a bit," Ben says, stepping in behind me. 

Shuffling forward, I wait for him to settle in behind me before reclining and coming to rest on his chest. His legs are open and his arms come around me, his nose falling into my neck.

"That was....good." 

I nod my agreement, still working to catch my breath. He laughs lightly and rests back, placing a palm to my forehead to encourage me with him. His fingertips glide up my wet thighs, onto my stomach and up toward my breasts. My nipples harden simply by the closeness of his touch.

"Are you happy to see me?" he teases, reaching them and circling the dark edges slowly.

"I'm always happy to see you, Ben." I shudder atop him, resting my hands on his thighs and smoothing across his dark hairs. "This is nice," I muse quietly, closing my eyes. It's relaxed and peaceful. Totally blissful. "Thank you so much for my gifts."

"And thank you for mine," he counters, making me smile into my darkness. "I've been thinking."

"About what?" 

"About snatching a whole weekend with you." 

My eyes spring on. "How?" I ask, trying not to let my excitement run away with me. A whole weekend with Ben? I'm giddy at the mere suggestion. 

"There's a construction convention next weekend. I'm signed up, but I don't actually need to be there."

I turn myself over so that I'm lying front down on his chest. He must surely see the exhilaration in my eyes. "Where?"

"Liverpool. Friday through Monday morning. Do you think you could come?" His hand meets my cheek and pushes some wet strands of my hair away from my face. I mentally race through my diary; nothing too important springs to mind. 

I can tell the girls and Poe that there's some architect exhibition or something. They won't check in on me, and they definitely won't volunteer to come themselves. 

"What will we do?" I ask, already planning it all in my head. We'll be like a normal couple. No sneaking around or looking our shoulders. I'm getting more and more excited by the minute. 

"We'll do what all couples do, of course. We'll eat out, go shopping, see a movie." He mirrors my smile. "We'll just be together like we should be."

I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve. I'd happily hide in a hotel for two full days as long as Ben is with me. "Lots of affection, I presume?"

His smile cracks and he laughs, sliding his palms under my arms and pulling me up to his chest. Our noses meet, our eyes hold. "Lots and lots of affection--mountains of it."

"Then I'm in." I seal our mouths and seal the deal, unable to wipe the huge grin from my face. "I can't wait." 

"Me either, gorgeous." Ben sucks on my bottom lip until it pops from his mouth. "Just so you know, Dopheld knows about...us." His declaration comes from left field, even though I wondered when I caught him watching Ben and me that day.

My heart jumps a little, suddenly worried. "Did you tell him?"

"I didn't need to."

My eye's drop to Ben's chin and dart. "We haven't been careless, though."

Ben pulls my chin up and smiles warmly. "I work closely with him, Rey. I can't exactly hide my happiness when you're around me."

I mirror his beam, but only mildly. I'm worried. "He wouldn't say anything to anyone, would be, Ben?"

"Oh God, no." He laughs at my suggestion. "He's a good guy, and he knows..." Ben trails off, but he doesn't even need to finish his sentence. Dopheld knows what Phasma is like. That's what he was going to say.

I remember a few occasions when Dopheld passed comment, or muttered something under his breath when Ben's wife turned up on site in a deranged fit. 

Ben takes a breath and kisses my nose. "Our little secret is safe, trust me. Now, tell me all about your week."

Our little secret. I so wish that we weren't a secret. I let Ben turned me back over, and he curls his forearms around my shoulders, keeping his face close to mine. We lie there for over an hour while I give him a rerun of my projects. He drains the tub a little every now and then and tops it back up with hot water to keep us warm.

He listens and asks questions, and never once does he sound bored. I just love how he can just let me ramble on about structures and technical stuff and he listens, speaking up when he has a suggestion or an opinion. It works in reverse, as well.

I could listen to Ben reel off any old gobbledygook, just to hear his voice. Just to know he's close enough for me to hear. 

Once we've got out and dried ourselves off, we dress and the atmosphere noticeably changes. We're not chatting easily anymore. I watch him while I blast my hair dry. He's sitting on the couching checking his phone, but he's not totally focused and there's an air of despondency around him.

I wonder what he's thinking, seeing him look up blankly to the wall every now and then, lost in thought. When I'm done and have gathered all of my things, I wander through to him. "Are you ready?"

He slowly stands. I can see it takes some great effort, his body appearing weighted down by something. "Ready," he confirms, slipping his phone into his pocket.

He closes the gap between us and pulls me in for a hug, probably one of the tightest he's ever given to me. I feel his lips brush against the top of my head and I suddenly know what's bothering him. 

"I know I've said this a million times already, but, it's still just as true now as it was the first time. I really hate this part," he whispers.

I smile sadly. Is he reaching the crossroads? Is he on the verge of making the move that will toss our little secret, blissful bubble into heartache and a whirlwind of hurt? What we have is easy, sure. Aside from the limited time that we have together, it's all rather easy.

Too easy, which makes it harder to take the next steps that will undoubtedly change all of that. I don't know if I'm ready for all the backlash.

Besides, what sane woman gets herself caught up in an affair? What woman with any self-respect and integrity would venture there? A woman who's in love, that's what. That's exactly who. They say you can't help who you fall for. 

Well, I wholeheartedly agree with that term now. 

I remember how much it hurt to fight the feelings, pushing Ben away and shutting down. I'm so frightened by the prospect of him telling Gwen that he's leaving her. I'm even more frightened that she will somehow convince him to stay and work on their marriage. That her emotional blackmail will get the better of him again. That's what terrifies me the most.

I see her so often in my mind's eyes, hysterical and devastated, begging him not to go. There's a knife in her hand, held on her wrist. I feel so guilty.

Ben will most certainly feel guilty. Guilt has a way of influencing your decisions. It's much easier to succumb to guilt and disregard what your heart is telling you to do instead. They should forewarn you that love is not all rainbows and unicorns, but stab wounds that go to deep. 

"So I'll see you next Friday at Lando's launch party?" he says on a hugged whisper. "We'll do something afterwards, yes?"

I nod into his shoulder, unable to feel all that excited about it. Next Friday feels like eons away. Ben holds me in his arms, seeming unprepared to release me, so I gently break away from him and reach up, giving him a little kiss on the cheek.

"See you then," I say, and then walk away, feeling him watching every step that I take until I close the door behind me.

 _Keep it together,_ Rey. I tell myself. _Breathe through it._ I find my way out onto the street and quickly find a wall to perch on to gather myself. I don't know how much longer I can see him like that. How much longer I can keep walking away from him....from us?

"Rey?"

* * *

I glance to my right and find Rose approaching. "Hey!" I shoot up, way too quickly, and I sound way too pleased to see her, too. I glance around, panicked. "What are you doing around here?"

She immediately frowns at me, and I strain a fake smile through my guilty face. "I have a dinner date."

"Here?" I ask. Of all the fucking hotels in London, she's having a date here? At this particular place and time? 

"Yes, here." She smiles through an even deeper frown. "So what are _you_ doing here?" 

"I uh...I had a meeting with a client," I blurt, shrugging. I know that I'm behaving strangely, and it isn't escaping her notice. Then again, nothing escapes Rose Tico's notice.

"Rey, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Oh fuck, she just has to go to the hotel. What are the chances of her and Ben crossing paths? I don't know, but I can't risk it. 

Yet I have absolutely clue what to fucking do about it, either. At that very second, I see Ben coming down the steps of the hotel and i scream inside my head for him to turn around and go back up the way he came. He looks up, smiling when he sees me just a few feet away. 

My eyes go around, trying to silently tell him to pay attention to who's with me. His steps falter, and his smile falls. But my attempt to warn him doesn't register in time, and Rose starts to turn around.

"Ben?" she asks.

Ben's face is a picture. It's so bloody obvious, and Rose must see it. How the fucking hell am I going to get out of this one? It's too much of a coincidence that I'm here and Ben's here, even if we're working together. Why would we be meeting here at a hotel?

Ben seems to gather himself quickly. "Hi, Rose. And look, Rey's here, too! Are you girls having dinner here?"

I'm utterly stunned by his coolness. How does he do it? I'm literally standing next to him sweating bullets and he's cool as cucumber and I find that both fascinating and equally terrifying. 

"No," Rose says slowly, looking over at me. I strain a little. "We just bumped into each other." Her dark eyes are accusing, and I die on the inside. "What are the chances of you two being at the same hotel?" She cocks her head in question.

I shrug and cough, forcing myself to locate some energy to play it as cool. "Like I said, just finished up with a client."

Ben starts buttoning up his suit jacket. "Excuse me a moment." He turns to the bellboy and slips a note in hi hand. "My wife. Mrs. Solo, is on her way out. Please hail her a cab when she's ready."

"Yes, sir." The bellboy nods sharply.

"Thanks." Ben turns back toward us, smiling brightly confidently to himself. It's so fake. His wife's on her way out? It's quick thinking, granted. But she isn't on her way out. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and glances down at the screen. "It was nice to see you two."

Taking his phone to his ear, he smiles brightly, backing up and takes the call. He's a genius....my man and I love him even more for it.

"Oh, and we're still on track with the gallery schedule, Rey. Lando said that you were asking."

I nod sharply as Ben turns and leaves. I waste no time swooping in for a subject change. "So who's your date with?" I chime, injecting tones of excitement into my voice.

"Oh, speaking of which, I'd better go. I'm already late." Rose suddenly awkward, hotfoots it up the steps into the hotel.

"But who's your date with?!" I call after her.

She totally ignores my repeated question, not that I'm bothered. I need to get out of here, pronto. "I'll call you later!" she sings.

I sag all over the pavement, but quickly pull it together when she turns around and faces me. "We're out next Friday," she declares.

I wilt, despite not being disappointed that I can't make it, but Rose needs to think I am. "I have a cocktail party at Lando's new gallery. I'll call you if I can get away early."

Sure, I can get away early, no problem, but meeting up with the gang means not being able to see Ben. I can go out with my friends any time I like, whereas my opportunities to spend time with Ben are rare and limited. Nothing will make me pass them up. Nothing.

"Okay, call me!" She breezes into the hotel, and I stagger toward the main road, exhausted by it all. I really don't know how much longer that I can keep this little secret of ours a secret. 

The days running up to Lando's launch pass by surprisingly quick, thank God; most of my days are spent at Lando's gallery, checking over the installation of the roof and having building control pass it. It's pure chaos there, the decorators and landscapers working through most of the nights to get everything done on time so the launch can go ahead. 

It is a push, all hands on deck, but we scrape in just on time. I stop off at the Tesco Express at the end of my road to pick up a bottle of wine, planning my night ahead while the cashier rings it through.

A soak in the bath. A glass of wine while I get ready. I have a taxi booked for eight, so I have two hours to slowly preen before I head back to the gallery to celebrate its opening.

Stuffing my bottle of wine in my huge slouchy bag, along with a bottle of fizz for Lando, I pay and get on my way, rootling through my bag for my keys when I make it to my front door. "Hey, Rey!"

I frown at the wood before me, my grip on the key becoming hard, I recognize that voice. I don't want to recognize it, and for a fleeting moment I hope I'm hearing things, but as I slowly turn and look over my shoulder, my hopes immediately die. 

My muscles tense, and the bracelet that Ben gave to me starts to burn red-hot around my wrist. I glimpse down, worried, checking that the sleeve of my brown trench-coat's concealing it. 

"Oh, hi Gwen," I say, tugging my key from the lock, but not before I've got the door open so I can escape quickly once we've had our pleasantries. What the hell is she doing around here? In particular, outside my apartment? Panic begins to consume me as I slowly turn to face her, trying to clear my face of all guilt. She's pristine as always, her lips blood red to match her long fingernails.

Those fucking nails. I want to cut them off with a hacksaw, ready to slice me in half in any given moment. I stand there....just waiting for it.

"I'm just parked down the street," she sings, pointing down the road. "Ben's dry cleaners is out on the main road, and it's a total bitch to park out there," She holds up a suit bag. "I knew it must be you."

I quickly give her a strained smile. "How are you?" I ask, my mind in total chaos. 

"Oh, fine. I'm just running a few errands. Ben needed this for some work thing he's going to later tonight." She rolls her eyes, and I just smile, a rabbit caught in the headlights. "Got any plans?"

"Just drinks with some friends," I blurt, breaking out in a sweat. Fuck, does she know it's Lando's launch night? I should have mentioned that I'm going as well. Why didn't I mention that I'm going?

"Well, don't get too drunk!" She laughs hysterically. "I'll have to wait until tomorrow to let my hair down. Ben and I are going out for a nice dinner and a few cocktails afterwards."

"That sounds great. I hope you two have a lovely evening." I'm lying straight through my teeth, of course. I actually hope they have a blazing row and Gwen realizes there's a serious lack of love coming from Ben's way. And _she_ leaves _him._ Problem solved. 

"Oh, don't worry, we will." She rearranges her bag on her shoulder. "Hey, we _really_ must do lunch sometime!" she sings. "How about sometime next week perhaps, if you are free?"

I smile tightly, alarmed. What the actual fuck? "Sure," I murmur, edging into my front hall. "That would be nice. I'd like that."

"Great!" She makes off down the road, waving as she goes. "It was lovely to see you again, Rey!"

"You, too," I call, then shit the door and fall back against it, utterly exhausted. 

Shit, I need a fucking drink. She was so bloody happy, and the unreasonable part of my brain is asking if she and Ben are getting on all of sudden. I can't think that. I rush to the kitchen in search of the wine and pour as I dial Rose, needing to talk to a friend to take my mind off....things, even if that friend doesn't even have a single clue what's going on in my personal life. Distraction.

"Hey."

 _"Bonjour!"_ she answers. _"Commet allez-vous?"_

"Um....why are you talking in French?"

"Because I had a French client today, and ooh la-la, is she something oh-so-pleasant to look at."

"Ooh, French, ah?" I sip wine as I make my way to the bathroom to run the bath.

"Hot as fuck!"

"Did you make your attraction known?"

"He's married, sadly. Restricted zone policy in my books, unfortunately."

I swallow down my wine on a hard gulp, thanking the good lord I'm not having this conversation with Rose face-to-face. I must be bright red and radiating guilt from every pore. I place my wine on the side of the bath and flip the taps on.

"Well, that's a damn shame."

"Not for his wife, it's not." She laughs, and I force myself to laugh, too. I swear, my phone is heating up along with me. It's burning in my ear.

"Hey, have you seen your new man again?" I ask. Apparently their first date went so well, and there have been two further dates since, though she's being stretchy with the details.

"I'll tell you about it tonight."

"I might not make it tonight. I have the gallery opening, remember. Tell me now. You've not even shared his name with me."

"Can't you slip off early?"

"I don't want to be rude, Rose," I tip some bubbles into the tub, pushing the guilt away for lying to her. Lying. I'm getting way too good at it, and it's not a quality that I'm all that proud of. "Look, I'll make you a deal, if I can slip away early, you'll be the first person I call, okay?"

"Okay," she relents on a drawn-out sigh. "Have a good evening at your fancy gallery opening."

"Will do," I confirm, my guilt now being pushed aside by the excitement.

I get to spend some time with Ben after the gallery opening. I just have to keep myself together while we're actually at the gallery. But as soon as we're out of there, the gloves are off. As well as all of his clothes. I hang up, toss my phone on the side, and start to strip down, frowning when I realize Rose avoided my question of a name again. I make a mental note to call her tomorrow and get one. She owes me that much at least.

I lower into the water but I can't get comfy. The hardness of the tub on my back when I recline annoys me. I shift and move, trying to find a comfortable position, wondering what gives.

When one of the diamonds of my bracelet catches one of the spotlights above and sparkles brightly, I suddenly realizes what's wrong. 

I sigh, fondling with the charms thoughtfully, shifting and wriggling in the tub. It's no good. I have no Ben to lie on. Baths will never be the same for me again. I give up on my relaxing soak and take a quick shower instead.


	19. Chapter 19

I stand at the end of the driveway that leads up to Lando's new gallery, staring up at my new creation, feeling an immense sense of pride. It's just about perfect, and though it looks shiny and new after the renovations, it doesn't stick out like a sore thumb as was argued by the local authorities on numerous occasions.

I make my way up the drive armed with a bottle of bubbly and wander through the open door. The impressive entrance has spectacular art displayed at every single turn. 

"Rey!" Lando appears and seizes me by the arm as I laugh.

"Hi!" I let him squeeze me before handing him his champagne.

"You shouldn't have." He hauls me through to the huge extensions at the rear. "Just look at it," he marvels, gazing up toward the roof. "Isn't it the most spectacular thing you've ever seen?"

"Wonderful," I admit, absorbing it for a few moments before taking in the people dotted around in small crowds; something admiring the art, some the building, and some just chatting and sipping fizz. I don't see Ben, but I spotted Dopheld. 

He notices me and raises his glass. "Here." Lando swoops have a flute off the tray of a passing waiter and places it onto my hand. "Have a drink, mingle, and listen to everyone sing your praises." He motions to the outside space through the bifold doors. "There's a wealth of people waiting to meet the woman who designed the new home for my masterpieces."

I actually blush a little, walking out into the minimal garden, where crowds of people are gathered drinking and chattering. But still....no Ben. I see the glass cases that Ben put forward, three of them hanging proudly on the brick wall, housing three pieces of Lando's extraordinary art.

"Are you hungry?" Lando asks, indicating a huge table with buffet laid out. "Help yourself if you're puckish." 

"Thanks, Lando." I forgo the food in favor of my champagne. "I'll grab something soon."

"As you wish." Lando leads me over to a group of people standing around a tall table.

"Hi," i say, shaking every hand that's offered to me. 

"Rey, this is Rick Chewbacca or as I like to call him, "Chewie"." Lando introduces me to a stocky man with shiny light-brown hair and an impressive moustache. "I know that you're technically off duty tonight, but he'd love to to talk to you about a property he's thinking of buying."

Rick smiles brightly down at me. "Rey, pleasure to finally meet you." His shake is solid; his huge sausage fingers completely wrap around my hand.

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Chewbacca, sir. So, tell me a little about this property."

"It's a historical building. Protected." He almost grumbles, clearly not impressed by that. "It's off Grosvenor Square. What can I do with it?"

I laugh. "Unfortunately, not a lot. Is it derelict?"

"Completely."

"Renovations, of course, will be welcome, but English Heritage will be watching me like a hawk. Materials will be specified, demolition a total no-go, and a specialist tradesmen will need to be drafted in."

"What are you saying?" Rick asks, looking rather displeased. 

"I'm saying that it'll cost you an arm and a leg. But you might be eligible for a grant from English Heritage to help with the financial burden. It's worth looking into, I'm sure."

He laughs loudly, taking a swig of scotch. "Maybe I'll rethink that idea. It sounds too stressful. So, tell me, where did you get your inspirations for this place?" 

He motions around the garden, up to the roof. I have to say, it looks bloody amazing, everything I hoped it would be. I smile and let myself get pulled into conversation about work. It's a welcome reprieve from my racing mind. Where the hell is Ben?

Dopheld finds me when I'm inside getting myself a refill, and I motion down his front. "This is quite a nice change for you," I say, smiling at his sharp, tailored suit.

He just laughs and gets a few glass for himself. "It's been a job and a half, but it's well worth it, I'm sure you'll agree." He looks up to the roof, and so do I. 

"It was by far the best and worst design move that I've ever made, possibly." This roof as caused me more stress than most projects in their entirety. 

"Ben had every faith in you," he muses, dropping his eyes back down to me again.

I sip my champagne, not knowing what I'm supposed to say to that. So I smile awkwardly, looking around the room. "He's not here?" I try to sound casual, but I know I've failed when Dopheld shakes his head a little.

"He's been held up," he replies quietly. 

I glance at him, fighting to keep cool. He's been held up? I don't like the knowing in Dopheld's expression. It's as if he's trying to tell something without actually saying it out loud. Why is he being held up? What's happened? I contemplate rushing to the toilets' to text him or e-mail him, bit I know that would be so stupid.

Gwen seemed upbeat earlier during that awful encounter with her. But what's the outside world sees. I know it's not all rosy behind close doors. Suddenly fretful, I empty my glass in one gulp and grab another.

"Well, I hope he makes it," I murmur weakly, backing up. "Excuse me, I need the ladies."

I turn on my heels but get no farther than that. My hands immediately begin to shake. My eyes are fixed on the entrance into the gallery where Ben is standing. With his wife. 

"Rey!" Gwen sings, delighted as ever to see me, like I'm her best friend. She grabs a glass of wine from the waiter and literally throws it down her throat before claiming another. "I thought you said you were out with your girlfriends." She struts over and plans a peck on my cheek, and my skin literally crawls.

I risk a quick glance at Ben. His face is grave, the twinkle in his eyes...dead. "I'm not staying for long," I murmur. "I'm heading uptown to meet them soon."

The night that I've been looking forward to for days and days vanishes before my very eyes. I'm utterly devastated. 

"Oh, how lovely," Gwen frees me and moves onto Dopheld, who is eyeing Ben with all the concern that he deserves. "Hello, Dopheld."

"Gwen," he says, smiling tightly through a nod. "You look stunning as always."

Her palm hits her chest, her cherry-red lips pouting. "Oh, you're too kind, Dopheld."

Yes, he is. She looks more like a dog's dinner, dressed completely to the nines, her body draped in a long stain dress that's more fit for an opera house, not a gallery. Ben moves in, swallowing hard.

"Rey." He nods formally at me and smiles mildly at Dopheld, taking what looks like a much-needed drink. I'm desperate to ask him what's happened. Why is she here with him? What the hell is going on?

"Isn't it just wonderful?" Gwen gushes, stopping another waiter as he passes and exchanging her empty for a full glass. "I mean really wonderful." She raises her glass and toasts to the air. "To my husband." 

This is fucking awful. "To Ben." Dopheld chinks her glass, and I follow in suit, mentally planning on my escape.

"And Rey," Ben pipes up, making my eyes go all wide. "We only built what she told us to."

I feel my spine stiffen. "Thank you." I swallow and five back into my champagne. It's the only thing keeping me going right now. 

"Oh, but of course." Gwen places her well-manicured hand on Ben's arm, and my eyes involuntarily fall to it, silently screaming at her to not touch him. "Rey, Ben's been so impressed with you."

I shoot Ben a look, shocked. He's been talking about me to her? Is he stupid or something? "It's just a job." I brush it off as best as I cab, hoping I don't sound to obvious that I've been secretly fucking _her_ husband on the side. 

"Rey and I are going to make plans for lunch very soon!" Gwen sings, clearly thrilled. I, however, am the furthest from thrilled that a person could be, and Ben looks plain horrified.

I've got to get out of here. I look past Gwen's beaming face, feigning surprise. "Oh, there's Cassian." I pluck a name from completely out of nowhere and point over towards the garden. "Please excuse me; I really must say hello to him."

And I'm out of there like a shot from a gun, walking outside and finding a group of people to muscle in on. The voices in the conversation are a blur of nothing. I try my hardest to engage, to listen, but no matter how hard I try to focus, my head has other ideas. I glance back casually and see a few people have joined Ben, Dopheld and Gwen, all engrossed in conversation.

Ben's there, but he isn't, as Gwen drapes herself all over him, stroking his arm, smiling up at him every so often, and throwing glass after glass of wine down her throat. I simply can't bear it.

Breaking away from the group, I find my phone and text Rose asking where they are and that I intend on meeting them soon.

"I couldn't get out of it." Ben's deep voice hits the back of my spine and licks its way to the very top, making her shiver but not in the way it usually does, when I get tingles and have to take a breath and contain my need to devour him.

He rounds me and puts himself before me, searching my eyes and begging for my forgiveness on the whole matter. I know he means well, but, it still hurts nonetheless.

"I'm so sorry, Rey."

"What happened?" I ask.

"She insisted on coming with me tonight. What else could I do? Tell my own wife that she's not allowed to attend one of the biggest deals of my career."

I shake my head and move away from him, watchful and wary of our surroundings. "I don't know," I admit. "Ben, you have to talk her out of arranging lunch with me."

He laughs now, low and sarcastically. "And how the hell am I supposed to do that? When Gwen sets her mind on something, it's nearly impossible to talk her out of it." 

I wilt when I realize that he can't, and it's mighty unreasonable for me to expect him to. "I was so looking forward to tonight." I instantly regret letting my thoughts speak for themselves. This isn't his fault. I shouldn't be making him feel guilty. 

"I know, Rey. I know. She mentioned you ran into each other earlier."

"Yeah, outside of my apartment of all places." I confirm. "She was picking your suit up from the dry cleaners." I motion down his black three-piece suit with my wineglass. "It looks nice, by the way."

He smiles mildly. "You look beautiful, and I can't even fucking touch you." His eyes burn into mine, so much hunger clouding them. "I need to see you later. Tell me that I can see you later tonight."

"How?" I ask. "You're with your wife." 

I don't mean to sound resentful, but the truth of it is, I am feeling resentful towards him right now. I hate feeling this way, he knows it, I know it.

"I'll find a way," he promises. "I always do." 

"No offense, but now's not the time to become careless, Ben," I warn. "Dopheld already knows, and if we're not careful, your wife will soon figure it out, too."

"I don't care. I need to see you, Rey," he grates, daring me to deny him with his hard stare. "Just answer your phone when I call." He breaks away, slapping a smile on his face.

"There you are!" Gwen croons, slipping her arm through Ben's when joins us. "Talking boring work as usual, honey?"

"As always," Ben confirms, looking down at her glass. It's empty....again. 

"Well, that's enough of that." She turns her fully body into him and places her cherry-red lips on his cheek. I want to vomit on my own mouth, my stomach churning terribly. "You need to show your beautiful wife a good time." 

My phone chimes in my hand, and I rip my eyes away from the unbearable sight of another woman all over the man that I love. "Excuse me," I murmur, heading back into the gallery as I read Rose's text. I'm going to get _so_ drunk. 

I find Lando, thank him and make excuses, not prepared to allow his evident disappointment make me feel too guilty. He holds on to me, tempting me with more frizz, but I stand firm, not letting him succeed in persuading me to stay a bit longer. Nothing would convince me to. 

I head to the toilet to freshen up my lipstick, and as I enter the ladies the first thing I see is myself in the mirror. I look as terrible as I feel. Pale and traumatized. Bracing my hands on the edge of the stone vanity unit, I breathe in, trying to give myself a pep talk. _Bang!_ My eyes shoot past my reflection to the row of stalls, scanning from side to side, listening carefully. What the hell was that? _Bang!_

Sounds of shuffles and whispers come from beyond the door of the far stall, and I force myself into stillness, or I try to. My heart isn't listening into my silent demand to pipe down.

Then the hushed whispers turn into low moans. My blood freezes, the sounds working their way into my brain and cementing themselves there, making sure that I'll never forget them as long as I live. Gwen's moans. Moans of ecstasy and pleasure.

"Take my dress off," she pants. "Take it off now, Ben."

My stomach convulses and I double over, physically stretching over the sink. Then the shouts start. "Oh, Ben! Yes! Take me here! Take me now!"

"Gwen," Ben growls.

I run out of the ladies room, the combination of heaves from my nausea and body jerks from the instant tears making me stumble and trip as I go. I feel like I could vomit.

Panicked and knowing there's no way I can go back in the ladies, I fly into the disabled toilet and slam it shut, bracing my hands on the toilet as I try to regulate my breathing. I feel lightheaded and dizzy. I feel sick and betrayed. A hopeless sob pouts free, and I clench my head to try and crush the tormenting sound that's looping on repeat in my head.

"No," I sob, falling apart, my body racked with ragged emotions. I have to leave and I have to leave now. 

I wrench the door open and run out of the gallery, and I don't stop until I reach the end of the road. I flag down the first taxi that I see and dive in. I'm going to find the girls and I'm going to drink myself onto oblivion. 

I just hope it's enough to take me away from this nightmare. I've never ventured there. I've not allowed my mind to, but when it's screwing behind a door in front of you, it's hard to ignore. I feel hurt.

Totally devastated. And fury is burning a hole in my sensibility and this time I can't stop. 

* * *

"Here she is!" Rose shouts as I wander into the champagne bar, spotting them all perched on tall stools around the bar table. Poe waves me over, pointing to a stool with a glass of wine on the table in front of them.

"Good boy, Poe." I praise him, landing on my seat with a thud.

"Are you okay?" he asks, giving me a once-over. I don't know good of a job I did of fixing my face in the cab, but I'm guessing even with perfect makeup right now, my distress would still be detectable. 

"I'm fine," I say, holding up a hand to halt Rose when she goes to speak. She snaps her mouth shut on a pout and watches as I gulp my wine. "Just fine," I repeat, slamming my glass down.

Jannah, Poe and Rose all regard me carefully for a moment. "Fine." I breathe in and out, in and out."

"She's fine," Rose says slowly, nodding her head at me. "Are you sure?"

I nod back. "Just an arsehole of a taxi driver, is all. I'm fine, honestly."

Rose rolls her eyes. "So let's get my news out of the way first." She sits up straight, and everyone at the table looks over at her. She begins to fidget. "Well," she begins, focusing on her wineglass. "I have something to tell you all, but before I do I want to make it clear that I've thought long and hard about it and I'd appreciate your support."

We all noticeably sit back on our stools, and I look to each of my friends, trying to figure out their thought process. They look intrigued, like me.

"I'm back with Finn," she blurts out before scooping up her drink and downing the lot, shrinking in her stool.

Realization dawns on me. "That's who you were meeting for dinner!" I say. "Finn." No wonder she's been so cagey.

She shrugs. "I agreed to meet up with him, yes. I didn't really see the point in mentioning it to anyone because I thought I'd tell him to be on his way and that would be that. But seeing him again, seeing how guilty he feels...I love him." She shrugs. "You can't just turn something like that off."

When the atmosphere becomes unbearably awkward, I dive right in and reach across the table, taking her hand. "Do whatever makes you happy, Rose," I say, wholeheartedly meaning it.

Tears of relief flood her eyes and her lips press together to the point that they're white. She can't speak, bless her, so she nods in return. I feel terrible for her. I saw how cut up she was when she found out about Finn's affair, and I damned the woman who'd walked uninvited into her life. A woman just like me.

Giving Jannah a discreet kick under the table, I sit back and let her do her bit, though, it's plain to see that she's significantly less enthusiastic about it than me. Poor Poe, however, just watches as us girls do our girlie bit.

"I might just go meet the lads," he mumbles, rolling his dark eyes.

"In other news," Jannah raises her glass, grinning wickedly, and I wonder for a fleeting moment if she's perhaps decided to give her previous beau a break. But then I remember the chewing gum incident with his kid and dismiss the thought immediately. Her hair has a way to go before it's back to it's former long, luscious glory. "I've joined a dating agency."

There are a few funny looks around the table before we all burst into fits of laughter. She's kidding, right? She's got to be!

"What?" Jannah asks, disgruntled. "At least I can make it clear what's acceptable and what's not."

"Like kids?" Rose asks, dismayed. 

"Just like kids," Jannah confirms. "Father's need not apply."

"Holy shit," Poe breathes, exasperated. "Can be talk about football before my balls shrivel up to nothing?"

I laugh and reach over to pinch his cheek. "You'll fall in love with someone one day, Poe." 

He scoffs, disgusted by the suggested. "There's a reason you and I are still friends, and it ain't because you have photo evidence of me dressed up as He-Man brandishing a rolling pin as a sword." 

Right. Apparently we're still friends because we're both allergic to relationships. He's talking nonsense, obviously. We're actually friends because we've known each other since day one, but that knowledge doesn't stop me from wilting like a dying flower. 

I swallow hard and divert my attention away from him, suddenly remembering why I'm clinging to my wineglass like it's a life jacket. Then I notice it's empty.

I grab the bottle from the middle of the table. Get plastered. Drown the memories of him in alcohol. 

"He-Man?" Jannah chimes in. "You dressed up as He-Man?" She jumps down from her stool and throws an imaginary sword in the air. "I have the power!" she roars, before finding in a half in fits of laughter with Rose.

It's a while before they look at me in question, like why am I not laughing? I shrug. I have nothing to give in the humor department, despite my life being a complete fucking joke. 

"Twats. All of you." Poe jumps down from his stool, looking to the door. "The lads are finally here. I'm off to find She-Ra." He lopes off on a grin, leaving the girls to be girls, which currently involves Jannah and Rose laughing their tits off. 

It could be an hour later, or it might be two. I'm not too sure at this point. All I know is that I'm tipsy and my mind is numbing more with each sip of wine I have. It's respite. I turn on my stool and find Jannah on her own on the dance floor, her wineglass in the air, her head dropped, swaying out of time to Hotchip's "Boy from School."

I keep my eyes on her as I blindly reach for Rose to get her attention, the sight far too amusing not to share. "Look at that." 

"Jesus Christ, no man will entertain that, kid or no kid," Rose quips, sliding off her stool. 

She strolls over to Jannah and gently coaxes her from the dance floor, helping her walk as she staggers and trips on her way back to us. Steadying her on her seat, Rose takes a stool beside her and moves in close enough to catch her slips in her drunken stupor.

"I'll have to ask," Jannah slurs, looking up at Rose with one eye closed. "Why the hell would even dream of taking Finn back?"

I sag on an audible sigh. "Jannah, it's Roe's decision. We would respect that." 

"I know, but, come on, we're all thinking it." She slaps a hand down but totally misses the table, forcing Rose to catch her before she topples from the stool. "What about the other woman?"

"That's none of our business," I pipe up, eager to halt the direction of the conversation dead in it's tracks.

"It's fine," Rose appeases me. "We really do need to get this part out of the way."

"Yeah," Jannah slurs, feeling around the table for her wineglass. Rose moves it away and pushes a glass of water toward her, and Jannah grabs it, waving the highball at Rose. "What kind of woman sniffs around a taken man? Not even _I_ would stoop to that level."

My throat closes up on me, leaving me silent at the table while the topic I've dreaded for months steamrolls forward, threatening to make my night even worse. 

"Men think with their dicks!" Jannah rocks back on her stool. "Their brains are in their balls!"

I die on the inside. Part of me knows it's wise to keep my trap shut, and part of me wants to give another angle for Jannah to consider. Yet, I don't. I can't. I have no other option but to sit back and listen while they slam into said _other_ woman, calling her every name under the sun, surmising what a nasty piece of work she is and generally ripping her to shreds. Brutally. Harshly. Justifiably. 

I shrink further and further, my head starting to hurt, my heart starting to ache. I'm a fool if I think for a minute that anyone will understand me.

The tiny scrap of hope I had of support from my friends just died. I can't take this anymore. I grab my purse, jump down from my stool and rush to the ladies, forgetting to declare my need for the loo in my desperation to escape the slaying session.

I can feel tears stinging the backs of my eyes and I can't let my friends see them. I lock myself in a stall until my churning stomach eases off, my mind slowly settling. I wasn't prepared for that.

It's so easy for me to bully my conscience into a certain way of thinking, but I can't control how other people think. For the first time since I embarked on this affair, I feel so alone. Where's Ben? Where is he told hold me and telling everything is going to be okay?

Anger then simmers in my gut, kick-starting the churning all over again. He's with his wife, fucking in the toilet at the gallery. My phone chimes, and though I know it'll send my anger into frightening realms, I still open his message.

_Where did you go? I've been looking all over for you._

My lip curls in disdain as I delete his worthless words from my screen. It didn't sound like he was missing me at all. I leave the toilet and head straight for the bar, ordering more alcohol. My phone rings this time, and I psych myself up to answer it. "Hello."

"Where the hell are you?" he asks in a whisper that I'm struggling to hear over the music. He's found a quiet corner to call me, away from her. "Rey?"

"I'm a little busy right now," I hang up, but before I collect our drinks, it rings again. "What do you want, Solo?" I snap when I answer.

"What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing. Get back to your wife, Ben." I spit, cutting the call and ignoring his next three attempts to ring back as I get the wine and take it over to the table. I wave for Jannah and Rose's attention on the dance floor, and both give me thumbs up when they spot the bottle in my grasp. 

"Is that Rey Kenobi?" A male's voice asks from behind me, pulling my attention around. 

I find a strapping bloke with a cute smile on his face, leaning against a nearby table. And I see thighs. Thick, rugby player thighs. 

"Tom?" I say, trying not to make it sound like a question. This is the last man that I slept with before Ben. Finn's friend of a friend.

"Well done," he teases. "How have you been?"

"I'm good, thanks. You?"

"I can't exactly complain." He indicates my empty glass. "Drink?"

My blazing fury gets tackled from the side by the unexpected potential opportunity that's fallen at my feet. I thought alcohol was my only escape. Maybe I was wrong. I disregard the full bottle I've just placed on the table. "What the hell? Why not?" I say, smiling. "Sauvignon, please?"

"Small or Large?" 

"Large."

Tom heads for the bar and orders while I fight back the stupid part of my fucked-up mind that's telling me not to do something that I'll regret later. It's not really hard to disregard it. My only regret now is putting myself in an affair. 

I remind myself that I'm technically still single. I'm technically free as a bird to do whatever the hell I want, when I want. I'm not the married one. If Ben can have his cake and eat it too, then so can I. I look across to the dance floor where Rose and Jannah are throwing themselves around like the drunken fool that they are, and catch their eyes. When Rose grins, and Jannah gives me double-thumbs up, I know they've clocked Tom.

They think I've been celibate these past four months. They'll psychically put Tom in bed with me if they have to. I accept my drink with a smile of thanks as I reacquaint my eyes with Tom.

He's handsome but rugged. Hos nose has clearly been broke a few times, and he has a tidy scar across his brow bone. His hair is short but fixed, and his neck thick. "So how have you been?" I ask, getting the conversation started as he perches on Rose's stool.

"Great, actually. I've been in Scotland for the last year at a training academy for kids." 

"Sounds good. But you're back?"

"It was a long-year program at one of the league clubs. We're starting one here at Twickenham next month."

I nod. "So you still play rugby then?"

He laughs. "How'd you guess?"

I shrug and place my glass of wine on the table. "Must be the cauliflower ears."

"Hey!" He reaches over and lightly punches my jaw. "I swear a head guard."

I smile coyly. "I'm only teasing. Sounds like it's a really great job." 

"It is. What do you do, Rey?" He takes a swig of his pint, grinning. "We didn't actually talk all that much last time I saw you."

I return his grin, remembering the night well. It involved lots of alcohol and laughs, and ended with every drunken sex. "No, but we did a lot of something else."

"I tried calling you after." He watches me closely. "Why did you give me your number if you didn't plan on taking any of my calls?"

"Work kind of took over my life."

"Oh. I thought it was because you were involved with someone at the time."

"No!"

"And are you now?"

I swallow and breathe in deeply. "No," I say clearly, evenly, and with one-hundred and ten percent conviction. 


	20. Chapter 20

Please don't ask me what I'm doing because I couldn't tell you. It seems to be the story of my life these days. All I know is that I'm in agony inside and I'm hurting all the more because deep down I know I have no right to feel betrayed. My mind is a wild mess of questions.

I feel deceived. It's a crazy claim. Or maybe this karma. Maybe the Fates have decided that Rey Kenobi doesn't get to be happy. She doesn't get to have what she desperately wants because she lied and cheated to try and get it.

I get out of the cab outside my apartment, Tom following closely behind. He slams the door and it echoes in the night air around us. We had a little moment outside the bar, nothing too much, just a look, but it was enough for him to ask if I wanted some company, and enough for me to say yes. As I walk up the path, I question what I'm doing and what good will come from it.

I conclude that I have no answer. I'm retaliating because I'm hurt beyond comprehension and it's making me self-destructive. I slip my key into the lock, push open the door, and let Tom follow me in.

"Nice place you got here." he says, shutting the door behind him. "Have you been here long?"

"Just a few months," I reply over my shoulder, making my way into the kitchen. "So, you want some tea, coffee, alcohol?"

"Whatever you're having is fine with me."

His answer gives me a moment's pause as I flick my eyes between the kettle and the wineglass. Seems quite stupid that something as simple as a choice of drink could pave the way for the rest of the night. 

"White okay?" I ask, taking down two glasses.

"Sounds good to me." He strides over to the double doors that lead onto the courtyard. "I love this," he says, unlocking the door as I pour us drinks. "I'm on the fifth floor of a high-rise. No outside space for me."

I gather up the glasses and follow him into my small garden. "Here you go." I hand him a glass and he raises it before taking a sip. "Cheers," I say in response.

He wanders over to the willow tree and pulls back some of the branches, peeking into the hidden space behind. "Now this is really cool."

"It's my peaceful space," I say, getting an unexpected replay of Gwen's tormenting's sounds of pleasure in my head. And Ben's growl. They're playing on a loop.

Over and over, getting louder each time. I wince, closing my eyes, but I'm interrupted from my inner turmoil when Tom speaks. "You never did tell me what you do for a living."

"I'm an architect." 

"Nice. Designed anything that I know?"

"Like the Shard or something equally iconic?" I ask on a teasing smile. 

Tom laughs. "Now, I know the bloke who designed the Shard was some Italian dude. You're not Italian, and you are definitely not a dude." He winks cheekily, prompting me to laugh. 

"His name is Renzo Piano. Sadly, I'm nowhere near his league, but maybe one day." I shrug.

Tom smiles and takes one step forward, closing the distance between us to only a foot or so. I look up at hi, finding soft, searching eyes. "I'm really hoping that I haven't read any of this wrong."

He moves in and I hold my breath, waiting for his lips to meet mine, and when they do, I exhale and relax, accepting his kiss. His lips are soft and tender, his mouth working slowly over mine. My mind completely empties. It's a relief. It's a reprieve. 

I can't pass up the opportunity to free myself from the mental chains I've locked myself in. Even if it's inly temporarily. With my wineglass in one hand, I use my free arm to reach up and rest over his broad shoulders, responding to his kiss. My willingness forces the pace up a few notches. I expect this to take me further away from my ain't, but I'm proven wrong when my darkness is suddenly hijacked with images of Ben.

I try to push his beautiful face to the side, feeling Tom slip my dress from my shoulders, exposing my bra straps. The very same bra Ben bought for me. 

I preserve, taking our kiss up another level in the hopes of getting past my momentary lapse in fortitude, but a loud crash brings the moment to a screeching halt and Tom pulls away fast, looking toward the doors.

'What the bloody hell was that?" he asks, a little dazed.

"I don't know." I stat toward the flat to investigate, and just make it into the kitchen when Ben comes crashing through from the lounge. 

I skid to a stop, shocked by the sight of him. He looks manic, his eyes wild. He stares at me, his chest puffing under his jacket, his shirt hanging from his trousers, his waistcoat undone and the knot of his tie halfway down his torso. He looks a wreck, and when his focus moves and centers on something behind me, his jaw tensing to a snapping point, I know that he's seen I have company.

I fear Ben might just explode at any second and lash out at my guest. And I simply can't allow that to come to pass. I quickly turn to Tom. "I'm sorry; I think it's best if you leave now."

I take his wineglass from his hand and set it to the side, not like the scowl he has pointed at Ben. Both men look as if they are about to charge one another and rip each other to shreds.

"Who the hell is this?" Tome asks, keeping his eyes on the deranged looking man standing in the doorway of my kitchen. 

I hear Ben draw breath and wait for him to say something, but nothing comes. What can he say anyways? That he's the married man who's currently been fucking me on the side?

"He's just a friend," I say, taking hold of Tom's arm. "I'll see you out."

Leading him toward the kitchen door, I look at Ben, my jaw as tight as his. He moves from our path, his nostrils flaring aggressively as we pass. I can see it's taking everything in him not to lunge at Tom and beat the living shit out of him. 

"I'm not sure of I'm cool with leaving you alone with him," Tom says as we reach the front door. It's open, with splinters of food hanging off around the lock. _Seriously, Ben?_

I shake my head to myself. "He's not that type," I mumble meekly, trying to smile. 

"I don't think your front door would agree to that statement." Tom points at the mangled wood with a frown.

I'm feeling so remorseful for putting him in this position. "I'm so sorry about all of this, Tom."

"An ex?" Tom asks, eyebrows high, and I just nod, because what else can I say? "I don't think he's quite over you yet," he laughs. "I hope you are able to sort it out." His sincerity triples my remorse. Leaning down, he gives me a peck on the cheek. "Bear me in mind if you don't, though, yes?"

I reach up and give his arm a firm squeeze. "Thanks for the drinks and the chat." 

"No problem. I'll see you around, Rey."

I push the door closed repeatedly, but the latch won't click into place. The damage is extensive: chunks of wood missing, some on the floor. He seriously kicked the door in? He actually kicked the door in and steamrolled through my house like he had some right to take a claim on me? I march back to the kitchen and find him leaning against the wall, his head back, his breathing still heavy; his fists clenching.

When he hears me enter, he pushes himself away and looks at me, a definite twist to his lips.

"Seriously, Ben? You kick my front door in? You barge into my apartment like a bat-out-of-hell?!

"It was necessary!" he barks, his chest puffing out. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?! Where's Gwen?" I ask, matching his threatening stance.

"I don't give a fucking shit about her right now, Rey!" he bellows, knocking me back a few paces as he straightens and points at me. "I don't care how unreasonable it sounds, and I don't even fucking care if you resent me afterwards for saying this, but you will not see other men! How the fuck could you do this to me?!"

How could I do this to him? How could I do this to _him?_

"You are one selfish asshole, Ben Solo!" I swipe the wineglass off the worktop, sending it flying across the kitchen and crashing into the hall near his head. The shattering of glass rings through the air, echoing forever. "Do you think that I actually enjoyed listening to you and her earlier?!

Ben's neck retracts on his shoulders, his eyes wide and wary. "You listened to us?"

"In the toilets at the gallery!" I scream. "You couldn't even wait until you got back home to fuck her!" 

I have to cover my ears to try to erase the recurring sounds inside of my head. I feel Ben's hands wrap around my wrists, trying to pull my hands away. I want his touch and at the same time I want to push him away for hurting me like he has.

"Don't fucking touch me!" I fight him, disturbed and hysterical, crying uncontrollably. 

"Rey, for fuck's sake!" His attempts to calm me become more forceful as he flings me around and locks my hands behind my back, thrusting my front into the wall. He presses his body into me holding me firmly in place, his breathing shot like mine. "Calm down."

His tall frame pressing me into the wall might be stopping me from escaping, but it doesn't stop me from shaking uncontrollably, rivers of tears streaming down my cheeks. "Go," I sob. "Just go."

"I'm not going anywhere," he vows, moving his hold of my wrists and locking them in one of his hands. I close my eyes, looking for the darkness to match my world, but I can't prevent the bawls of despair from ripping through me.

"No, leave, Ben! I want you to leave now!"

"And I said I'm not leaving, Rey. I'm not." 

Ben waits for my sobs to subside before he speaks again, keeping me restrained. "I only took her in there to calm her down, Rey. She was falling all over the place, getting louder and louder, more offensive and rude. Do you think I wanted anyone to see my wife making a scene like that in front of everyone, friends, colleagues...you?” 

“Well, you obviously wanted me to hear it!” 

“I didn’t even know you were in there, Rey! Look, it’s hard enough to keep tabs on Gwen, don’t make me start it on you, too!” He said harshly, piercing my soul like a knife. 

"I heard her moaning and you fucking growling like a bitch in heat! She was telling you to take her dress off. So did you? Answer me, Ben. Did you take her fucking dress off?"

He spins me around, keeping my hands behind my back with his, pressed into the wall. The scruff on his jaw is rolling in waves of anger. "She was trying to get my fucking clothes off. She was drunk, Rey. All I did was fight her the fuck off of me. I wasn't growling, I was whispering because I could hear someone had come in the fucking ladies room!"

I push the back of my head into the wall, trying to escape the bullets of fury shooting from his angry eyes. 

"Are you hearing me, Rey?" he roars in my face. "Are you fucking listening to what I'm telling you?"

I nod, my chin trembling, my face stinging with tears and confusion. He's so angry with me, but I am just as angry with him. We've hurt each other and it shows most plainly on our faces.

* * *

"If you had been in that bathroom a few more minutes, you would have heard the row. You would have seen me storm out of there. You would have been Gwen slap a waitress for apparently staring at my ass on the way out."

I gulp down my horror, unable to be relieved or grateful. "W-What?"

He laughs sardonically. "Oh yes, she put on an epic performance tonight for sure."

"You should have told me that," I whisper.

"You didn't even give me the chance to get a word out."

Ben closes his eyes, his body going lax against me, and then he moves away, pulling his shirt up, turning away from me. My hands covers my mouth when I see the state of his back: red, raw, and throbbing. I'm horrified. Why would she do this to him?! Why?! He has been nothing but kind, caring and loving and he has so much to give, but clearly, Gwen just can’t see that.

All she sees is the failure: the husband he refuses to be towards her. My God, if she were standing here in front of me right now, I would slap her. I wouldn’t even hesitate to show her exactly how I felt about her—the real her, the monster! 

"Every time I look at her, Rey," he says quietly, "I see the threat in her eyes. She knows I've already left her in my head." His teeth audibly grind as he drops his shirt and turns to face me, his gray eyes opening and boring into my wide ones. "She's not going to make this easy for me, even without knowing about you."

I sniffle, feeling crippling guilt. He's going through this alone---being faced with Gwen and manipulation every day, and I've buried my head in the sane.

"You are literally the only thing that's keeping me going while I try to figure this shit out. Don't give up on me now, baby. Please, I'm begging you." Ben's gaze drops to my shoulder, and I watch as the hollows in his relaxed jaw start to pulse again. His hand comes up and lightly traces over the strap of my bra. He's not being affectionate. 

I realize what's forcing him to keep hold of his temper the moment he turns disgusted brown eyes onto me. And I hate myself for it, too.

"You're wearing my underwear," he breathes. He's trying to swallow down some calm. He's failing terribly. Taking the tops of my arms, he holds me in firmly in place. "You have my underwear on and you were going to let another man have this way with you?"

I shake my head meekly. He recoils. "Did you kiss him? Tell me that you didn't kiss him."

I fly into defense mode. "I've been here for months accepting that you get into bed with _her_ every night. Not me. _Her._ " A fresh batch of tears tumble free. "It should be me." I cough on a sob, looking away. 

Ben hisses and releases her, backing away. "This is poisonous, Rey. All of it," he mumbles, raking a frustrated hand through his hair.

Without him holding me up, my knees give and I slowly slide down the wall to my arse. He takes his knuckles to his eye sockets and rubs harshly, letting his head fall back once he's done. "Ben, I don't--"

"I know you're scared of the repercussions, Rey," he says, this time more calmly. "Trust me, so am I, but I'm done with it." My heart pounds in my chest as he drops heavily to his knees in front of me, taking my hands and shuffling forward to get as close to me as possible. "Rey, listen to me."

He squeezes my hands, his face deadly serious as he holds them tightly in his. I never knew how much I need this...or him. 

"If I stay in that hell hole any longer, there will be nothing left of me to save." He drops my hands and grabs my cheeks, holding my face as my tears continue to pour. "I'm madly in love with you, woman, and I'm hating my screwed-up situation for keeping me from you. I don't care about the consequences. I can't let her manipulate me anymore. And I don't care what people will think of me when I leave her....for good."

He then kisses the top of my forehead, holding his mouth there, and my hands go to his shoulders and hold onto him. "I'm so, so sorry, Ben, I--"

"We've been walking with our heads in the clouds for too long, baby. I'm not settling for part-time love anymore. I just want to be with you. Every day I stall is a day wasted without you. It's another piece of me chipped away."

I break down in his arms, feeling like everything is coming to a head. The pain and the devastation on the horizon are at the forefront of my mind, but I know it's going to be so much worse than I could ever imagined it could be. 

"I just don't want to lose you, Ben," I murmur weakly, aware that Gwen has the ability to manipulate Ben, make him feel guilty and influence his decisions. How can she be happy knowing how unhappy he is?

"You won't lose me, Rey. I swear to God." He breathes in as he pulls his lips away from my forehead and brings his face to mine, making sure he has my eyes. "It's not going to be easy, but as long as I have at the end of it, I can get through it." Ben's voice quivers, his bottom lip trembling. "I'm terrified that you're going to decide I'm not worth the heartache and walk away from me, Rey."

"No!" I cry, grabbing his hands on my face. "I could never ever walk away from you, Ben Solo. I love you way too much." I hate how relieved he looks, as if he could ever have doubted it. 

I might not have told his with words, but I've told him in every other way. I would never have put myself in this situation for anything less than powerful love. The kind that keeps you going. The kind that gives you breath and life. Ben's my life. He's my pulse. He's everything to me. 

He nods and strokes over my hair, his hand falling to my neck and massaging. "Then we do this together. We'll figure it out." 

He collapses to his ass and hauls me into his body, holding on to me like he's never held me before. His heart is pounding hard, his emotion clear in his constant swallows. "I love you, Rey. I love you so much. I'll never regret not walking away from you that night," he tells me quietly. 

I slowly smile through my wretchedness, squeezing him him even harder, reinforcing how I feel about him without spoken words. "Y-You do?"

"Yes, without a doubt. Crossing that road to you was the best move that I've ever made."

He kisses my head constantly, feeling me everywhere as I snuggle in his embrace, letting myself calm under his touch. "We'll be all right, you'll see." Gently breaking away from me, he smiles mildly, a smile full of the worry and apprehension that I'm feeling myself. "I should go now," he says regretfully, just as his phone rings. 

On a weary exhale, he looks down at the screen, as do I. Her name stares up at us and brings on another level of despondency. "So where is she?"

"She's at home. I walked out when she came at me with her claws."

I wince, but a flash of anger creeps up on me. I _hate_ that woman for everything that she is The sooner he's out of there, the better. He stands and pulls me to my feet, brushing my hair from my sticky face. 

"But before I leave I need to fix your door." Taking my hand, he walks us through to the hall where my door is literally hanging off it's hinges. There's no way Ben's fixing that. He'll be here all night if he tries. Not that I'd mine if he stayed all night....here with me.

"I'll call a locksmith, Ben."

"I'm not leaving you here by yourself with your door like this, Rey."

"Well, then maybe you shouldn't have smashed it down," I mutter.

"Then you shouldn't have gone and brought back a man---" My hand zooms up and covers his lips, and his eyes widen. Then his mouth opens and shifts a little, and he bites down on my hand. 

"Ouch!" I yell, retracting quickly, but my split second of a chance to retaliate is stolen from me when he seizes me around the waist and pins me to his body. 

Taking my arms and draping them over his shoulders, he gets nose to nose with me. I scowl. He chuckles slightly. I have no idea away. Tonight has been about as funny as a horror film. "Why the hell are you laughing?" I ask indignantly. 

"Because if I don't laugh I'll embarrass myself and cry like a fucking baby."

I sigh. "You'd better go before I change my mind."

His shining eyes dull immediately. "But I don't want to leave you."

"You don't have a choice in the matter, Ben," I point out, detaching him from my body and moving toward the door before I beg him to stay.

"Well, you make a point. So can I see you tomorrow?" Ben asks. "I'm in the office all day but I can get away for an hour for lunch."

I fight my hands to my sides when he stops in front of me, giving me hopeful eyes. After everything, I just want to charge at his waist, tackle him to the floor, and hide in his chest. And hide him from her.

"You're in the office? But it's a Saturday."

"I have some stuff to catch up on." And it keeps him out of the house too.

"Where?" I ask.

"There's a little place at the back of the docks."

"That's a bit close to your office, isn't it?"

"It's a Saturday. No one from the office will be around."

"Okay, fine," I agree, without hesitation. If Ben's comfortable with it, then there's absolutely no reason for me not be. "Noon? I'm seeing Poe for coffee at ten o'clock. Shouldn't be for more than an hour, tops."

"Noon it is, then," Ben confirms, stopping at the door and giving the splintered wood another inspection. "Call the locksmith straight away and text me when they've been here." He turns and gives me stern eyes.

I sigh. "I can't text you." 

"Yes, you can and you will. I won't sleep until I know that it's been done."

Is he becoming a bit complacent? All the signs suggest it. Bashing down my door, meeting for lunch, telling me to text him when he's going to be in bed. I know he's made a decision, but he still needs to tread carefully, as well as think about how and when he's going to do what needs to be done. Cold waves ripple through my bloodstream at the thought of losing him.

After kiss my cheek, he wanders down the path. "I'll text you the address of the restaurant." 

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow.....Ben?"

He stops dead in his tracks at the sound of voice and immediately turns around to look at me, his eyes hopeful and shimmering. "Yes?"

"I love you."

He smiles and nods. "I know. Now go to bed, sweetheart."

I nod and push my door closed as best as I can, then go in search for my phone to call a locksmith. They can't specify a time, so once I've let Ben know, I'm given little choice but to sit on the couch and wait for them to turn to, when I'm so desperate to fall into bed and shut my mind down.

But there's no hope of that happening anytime soon. He's leaving her. You'd think it would be what any woman who's in love with a married man would want to hear, but given everything that I know, I'm full of dread rather than elation. Dread not just for myself but for Ben.

 _My_ dear, sweet Ben.


	21. Chapter 21

I come awake no banging---relentless, panicked banging. Diving up in a daze, I stumble down the hallway to my front door, trying to straighten my sleepy mind while shaking my dead arm awake. It's full of pins and needles, which results in my hand refusing to grip the handle of the door in order to turn and open it. 

I mentally encourage my muscles to wake up as the banging continues, my head rattling more with every impatient thump of the door. "Hold on!" I yell, swapping hands and wrenching the door open. 

I growl before my sleepy eyes tell me who the culprit is. I soon wake up when a blurry silhouette if a person becomes Ben. He looks a little flustered to see me. "What are you doing?"

"Um, it's one o'clock," he grumbles, pushing me inside the following, shutting the door behind him. "You didn't acknowledge the address of where we were meeting for lunch, and you didn't fucking turn up." He points a finger in my face. "I've been worried sick!"

I blink a few times, letting everything he's just shouted at me drip into my brain. "It's one o'clock?" I blurt in panic, turning and running into my lounge to find my phone. "I was supposed to meeting Poe at ten!" I cry, pulling cushions from the couch and throwing them over my shoulder. 

No phone. I shove my hand down the sides in turn, feeling around and still nothing. Great, just fucking great!

"Hey? Looking for this?" Ben picks up my phone from the TV cabinet and holds it up.

"Yes!" I rush over and snatch it from his hand, finding its batter....completely dead. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" I quickly plug it in and wait impatiently for it to switch on. 

Sounds start ringing, dinging and singing chaotically when it comes to life. I wince with every separate sound, seeing missed calls and text messages springing onto my screen; not just from Poe, but from Jannah and Rose, too. I can see Poe in my mind now, dialing them to try and find out where I am. Going through the texts, I see each and every one of my mates have left a message asking where the hell I am and if my lay was up to scratch.

I quickly call Poe, worried that he might be on his way over to drack me down. "Damn," I mutter when it goes straight to voicemail. "It's me. I slept in." I laugh like an idiot. "Call me!"

Hanging up, I proceed to call Jannah, telling her the same excuse, walking away from Ben when she asks, a bit too loudly, if I'm able to walk this morning. I peek at him, and his nostrils flare dangerously. 

"I'll call you later," I say, hanging up. Then I dial Rose, saving her for last. She might not be so easy to fob up.

"And where the hell are you?" she answers in greeting.

"I slept in." I screw my face up, waiting for her scoff of disbelief. 

In the ten years I've known Rose, I've never ever slept in. Not this late, anyway. I look at Ben and see him roll his eyes, a sign of his annoyance. "I'm on my way over right now to check and see if you're not lying on your floor....dead."

"No need!" I shoot Ben a pained look, watching as he flops down onto the couch. "I'm on my way to mum and dad's."

"Oh. Okay. So how was it? Are you seeing him again? I like Rugby Player Tom!"

I turn away from Ben and cringe. "I can't really talk right now." 

"Oh...my....God! Is he still there?" She squeals excitedly. "Call me later! I want every single little detail!"

"I will." I hang up and drop my phone to the couch, exhausted after my mammoth session of bullshit. "I cannot believe I slept in 'til this time." It shouldn't be all that much of a surprise, really. The locksmith didn't turn up till four a.m. and I didn't get to bed until at least five.

"Don't sweat it," Ben grumbles. "It's not like you've given me a heart attack here or anything."

"And what do you think happened to me?" I ask, passing him to go to the kitchen. "There was no risk of the madman who beat down my front door returning."

"Well, he's here, now," he replies, low and husky and....very close behind me.

I whirl around and collide with his chest. "Oh!" I'm grabbed and hauled up to his lips, and then indulged in a long, passionate hello kiss. "Hmmm," I sigh, relaxing into the smooth, slow rotations of his tongue. "Hello to you, too, handsome." 

"Fuck, I've missed you." He keeps our lips sealed as he lowers me back down to my feet. 

"It's been less than twelve hours."

"Every minute feels like a century with you," he mumbles into my mouth moodily. "I didn't sleep a wink last night. I daydreamed my way through my morning, and tapped the table in the restaurant a million times with the fork while I waited for you." 

He pulls back and scowls at me. It's then I see it. A nasty red mark on his cheekbone. My eyes root on the blemish, fury burning a hole through my gut.

"Rey, it's nothing." He covers the mark and steps away, avoiding my furious eyes. 

"Nothing? Nothing, are you kidding me right now, Ben?!" I ask, astounded. _Nothing?_ I can feel myself beginning to quiver with the rage that is building up inside me. Last night she shredded him with her fucking nails, and now this? "Look, you might not be able to retaliate, Ben, but there's nothing to stop me from doing it."

I storm past him, enraged, set on finding Gwen and giving her payback for all the marks that I've seen on Ben, _and_ the ones I haven't seen, too. 

"Rey, stop." He snakes his arm around my waist from behind and lifts me from my feet, stopping me dead in my tracks.

"She can't keep doing this to you!" I shout, wriggling to break free from his firm hold. "I swear, Ben, I'll rip her fucking arms and legs off so she can't touch you ever again!" 

"Rey, calm the hell down." His voice is so level, so composed as he takes me back into the kitchen. "You will be doing nothing of the sort." Placing me back down on my feet, he tilts me a warning look.

This just isn't fair. "So how would you feel if you found me with one of these on my body or more, huh?" I ask, pointing at the mark, flinching as I try to imagine her hand connecting with his face, that beautiful face. 

Ben's low, threatening growl gives me the answer I'm searching for. "Don't ask me silly questions like that, Rey."

"It's not silly, it's actually quite very genuine. I want to know."

His face looks murderous. "I'd kill someone."

"Then I rest my case." My lips form a straight, thin line. 

Ben visibly gathers his patience. "Look, I didn't come here to argue with you over this. Please, just let me deal with it." I open my mouth to argue once again, but he covers it with his palm. My eyes become angry slits. 

"Please." His plea pierces my fury like a needle, and my swallow is lumpy. 

I'm stressing him out even more, giving him something else to worry about. And thought I'd love nothing more than to rip his wife limb from limb, I relent, pulling his hand down from my face so that I can speak. "I'm so sorry, Ben."

"Never be sorry for loving me _that_ much," His fingers thread through my hair and grip at the base of my neck. "Do you hear me?" I nod, and Ben nods in return. "Good. Now let's just put this behind us for now and get ourselves some coffee."

He plants a kiss on the tip of my nose, turns me in his arms, and sends me on my way with a tap on my ass. I set about preparing us a strong, steaming cup of the good stuff, but I pause as I spoon some granules into my gigantic mug. I know he wants me to let it go, but part of me is itching....clawing at my insides.

"Where is she now?" I ask, swinging around to look at him.

"On her way over for coffee," he replies flippantly. 

I'm not in the least bit amused by his attempts to lighten our moods. "You're not being funny, Ben."

"She's gone to her parent's house, Rey." He rolls his eyes, like I should know the answer to that. "We..." His forehead wrinkles a little. "Well, it didn't go too well when I got home." He points to the mark on the side of his face, and for the first time I ask myself why she hit him. 

Oh fuck, has she figured it out? Yesterday gave a chain of clues. Did she rewind through it all and piece things together? Or did Ben tell her that he's leaving her? I start to sweat, and then steel myself to ask him the operative question. 

"What happened?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," He shrugs his big shoulders dismissively. "I didn't say what she wanted to hear, so the dagger-like fingernails and screams come out to play. She's gone to her parents. It's her father's birthday. They picked her up and took her some for the evening to joining on the jamboree with all the family, friends, and business associates. The thought of sitting there pretending my life is perfect, pretending to be the perfect couple, doesn't appeal. Funny, that."

I spoon two sugars in his coffee--just the way I know he likes it---and stir, watching him, thinking how casually he reeled all that off. Because he's used to it---the drama, the long, agonizing fights, the lashing of dagger-like fingernails--and that isn't good. I then hand him his coffee and rest back on the worktop, cupping mine with my palms.

"Anyway." He takes a quick sip and rids his hands of his mug, then proceeds to try to take mine. I put some resistance up, taking a big gulp of caffeine before he can take it away. He laughs under his breath as he slides it onto the counter, and then takes my hips, hunkering down, getting his face close to mine. "But enough of all that. You're supposed to be my happy place." 

"Happy place?" I ask, slowly pulling back when his palm slides over my waist before drifting down a little and stroking over my inside thigh, just a fraction away from my church. I go completely rigid. 

"My happy place," he declares, restraining his grin.

I gasp, shocked, totally forced. "Cheeky!"

Ben laughs, a true happy laugh that sinks straight beneath my skin and impales my heart. He dips and hauls me up over his shoulder. I yelp, laughing, as he strides out of the kitchen, holding me in place by the backs of my thighs.

"My coffee!" I protest, not really giving a fuck about my caffeine, but feeling the need to out up a good fight. 

"Fuck the coffee," he scoffs. "I have something far tastier to wake you up with." 

I grin up at him like an idiot and hold his hips, eyeing his ass as he hauls me down the hallway towards my bedroom. I land on the bed, laughing. Ben pulls off his suit jacket and tosses it to the side carelessly, yanks his black tie free, and then his fingers are quickly working the buttons of his shirt. 

I remain still and quite happy while I watch him strip down, licking my lips provocatively when he pushes his trousers down his sturdy thighs. 

He kicks his shoes and socks off, and finally his trousers, leaving him graced in only his boxers. My eyes drop to his groin. He's hard, the shape of his cock prominent and calling for me. 

Slipping his finger into the waist of his boxers, he pushes them down and it springs free. I lose my breath, my anticipation building. I reach for him with my hand, asking him to come to me, but he simply shakes his head, taking a loose hold at the base. 

"Take off your shirt," he orders, his voice edgy and firm. 

My hands go straight to the hem of my T-shirt and I pull it up over my head, revealing my breasts, tipped with pink, hard buds. He smiles, his eyes sparkling. God, I wanted him so much that it had become an ache. This man, _my_ man, the man I loved, the man who was suffering at the hands of another woman, the man I wanted to break free from his chains.

"Now come here."

* * *

I'm on my hands and knees and crawling toward the end of the bed, my eyes remaining on his arousal the whole way until the tip of my nose is touching the tip of his cock. He has something tastier than coffee. He wasn't wrong. My tongue leaves my mouth, keen and hungry, but he pulls away before I make contact, devastating me. 

"Do you want a taste?"

I try to play it all cool and nonchalant. Oh, God, do I try. But next thing I know, I'm knocking his hand away and wrapping my lips around his flesh. 

Ben's stomach concaves, his body bending over to try and escape my wicked mouth. I don't let him. "Holy shit, Rey!" His hand comes to my head and presses me to him. "FUCK!" His bark of shocked pleasure soon changes into a deep moan of ecstasy. 

I look up as I move forward , getting comfy, loving the feel of the taut, velvet skin of his manhood gliding in and out of my mouth. His head dropped back, his throat stretched, showing every hard swallow he makes. And believe me, there were many. 

He tastes divine. Better than coffee for damn sure. I'll take over this over caffeine any day of the week. His hands in my hair start to meld against my scalp, and his hips start to rotate to meet the advances of my mouth. I work my hand, too, doubling his fits of pleasure. Then he adds to _my_ pleasure, his hands leaving my hair and feeling down until he has a breast cupped in each palm.

Now it's me moaning now, my pace faltering for a fleeting moment while I accustom myself to the feel of him caressing my aching boobs and I pump my mouth up and down, the tip of his cock hitting the back of my throat each time.

I hear moans, I hear barks of pleasure-filled despair. It all fuels me. Sliding my hand down his stomach I reach for his thighs and stroke his heavy balls tenderly. His whole body convulses. "Ohhhh....fuckkkkkk! Yes, keep going---keep---shit, fuck!"

I smile and draw back slowly until his cock pops free, then I circle my tongue teasingly around the tip, as his head goes limp, dropping. His eyes are closed, but a cheeky bite of the tip of his cock remedies that.

They spring open, low and hooded and clouded with want, with an intense heat I can't even begin to fathom. 

"So is that better than coffee?" he asks. 

His chest heaves, his eyes falling to his hands molding my breasts. I should be asking him that question but instead of doing that, and instead of answering him, I start a punishing pump with my fist, ensuring my hold is tight. 

"Motherfuc---" he chokes, jolting forward on unsteady legs, his hold of my boobs becoming brutal. I wince but battle through the slight discomfort, shooting back and forth at an epic rate. "Shit...Rey..."

My tongue circles his tip as my fist continues to work him, and then I sense he's close. I swathe the top of third of his cock and suck. It's his undoing.

A flow of curses comes thick and fast, and plenty of verbal warnings, too. I take them all, feeling him come in long, surging pulses, his essence pouring into my mouth, flooding me and hitting the back of my throat.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he puffs, grinding his groin against my mouth, trying to catch a breath. Pulling free and falling toward me, he flattens me on the bed with his heavy, sweaty body. I smile, satisfied, and swallow. "You are so fucking amazing, Rey," he pants, a dead weight spread all over me. 

"And now....I really need that coffee."

He laughs and struggles to push himself up onto his elbows until he has my face in his sights. "Is this how you are every time you give an ecstatic blow-job?"

"I wouldn't know," I shrug. "You're the first man I've ever given a blow-job to after lunch." He grins at my remark while I blank out the blemish on his cheekbone and give him a dazzling smile, feeling rather pleased with myself.

"But you can be damn sure that I'm booking in one of those for every day for the rest of our lives."

"It'll cost you," I warn.

"Fine, name your price, baby."

His serious demand gives me pause. I was being being playful. I had nothing in mind specifically. "Can I think about it?"

"Yes, but you only have until tomorrow." He dips and kisses my forehead and then rolls onto his back. 

I'm straight up on my elbows, looking at him lying beside me. "Why? What's happening tomorrow"

Has he finally decided tomorrow is the day he'll tell Gwen it's over between them? Once again, I'm breaking out in a sweat, and it has nothing whatsoever to do with the effort I just put into giving Ben head. Panic immediately sets in, what's happening here.

His head falls to the side. "You're definitely giving me another one of those." He then points down to his semi-erect cock, then to my mouth.

I calm a little, falling to my back next to him. It's only a little, because the one thing we haven't talked about is _when_ he plans on telling her. I need to know. I need to be prepared...and possibly out of the bloody country. I didn't want to ask, and I planned never to, but all of these mild heart attacks I keep having, surely aren't good for me. 

"Ben, listen, I'm not asking to put pressure on you or anything, but, can you at least give me some kind of indication as to when you plan on...." My question rolls to a stop. I don't know why I can't bring myself to finish my sentence.

"Well, I tried this morning before her parents came and picked her up." He shakes his head as he glances away. "But every single time I went to say the words....it's like she knows what's coming and gives me crazy eyes to remind me of what can happen."

"You sure she knows?" I ask. Maybe he's wrong. I can't figure out if it's better to be expecting it or not.

"Oh, she knows. In bed last night she---"

"Whoa, whoa!" I half-laugh, half-gape at him, not quite believing those words just came out of his mouth.

He drops hos head to the side and gazes at my disbelieving face, taking my hand and squeezing. "Just listen," he orders softly, so I brace myself, breathing in deeply and wincing in advance. "I got the spare bed last night, for obvious reasons." He clenches his eyes shut, and his body definitely shudders. "She climbed in with me in the middle of the night. I pushed her away, Rey."

He points to the blemish on his cheekbone and I suddenly realize where the claw marks came into play and it makes me hate Gwen that much more. She better hope I don't run into her anytime soon or I might just kill her myself.

"She knows." I see all kinds of emotions in his brown eyes, and definitely a bit of guilt. And he must see the fear in mine, because he quickly rushes on. "She won't make me stay. I can promise you that."

I fall quiet for a moment, thinking. He needs to get out. He needs to get out now, and he would need to even if I wasn't in his life. This is fucked up on so many levels.

"Will you tell her about me?" I ask, biting my lip nervously.

"God, no." He shakes his head vehemently. "No. I want to keep you as far away from it as possible, which will be extremely fucking hard when I know I'll need you close."

He wants me out of the firing line. He wants to protect me from the repercussions. But really, things will be no different. We'll still need to sneak around because no one can know about us, which leads me to yet another question. Yet, I don't voice it. How long will it be before we can just be....us? What's an acceptable period of time for someone to move on?

What's an acceptable time for a woman to start seeing a man who's recently only just left his wife? Months? Years? 

I fold on the inside a little, wondering how long I have to wait until I can say that Ben Solo is finally mine. Just mine. Some of him was better than nothing of him. I couldn't walk away. Still can't. My only out isn't really an out at all. It feels more like a punishment than a reward. 

When Ben leaves her, people will see the state of Gwen, because there's no doubt she'll be spiraling downward. They will judge Ben and if they find out about me, they will judge me, too.

"Rey?" Ben's anxious call of my name pulls my eyes from the ceiling to him. 

His face looks worried as he squeezes my hand. Threading his fingers through mine, he holds on tight, as if he senses my despondent thoughts and he's worried that I might get up and leave.

"Ben, if anyone finds out about us, they'll all blame me," I murmur, looking back up at the ceiling. "To them, I'll be the cause of a woman's devastation and heartache, and no offense, but I kind of am, Ben. No matter how you look at this situation. I feel like karma is going to plague me for the rest of my life."

"Hey," Ben rolls into me, lying on his side beside me while I remain flat on my back, looking up at my bedroom ceiling. " You are not the cause, Rey. You are a symptom, that's all. If anything, I’m the princess locked away in a tower and you are the one doing the rescuing here.” 

I laugh lightly. "Come on, Ben. How many people do you honestly think will accept that? It's a crock of shit. If you hadn't found me at the bar that night, you would have remained in your marriage, happy or not. Right now, I am part of the reason. That's the crux of it. I'm not going to kid myself that others won't see the same way if they find out about us." 

"Rey, I love you more than anything." He grinds the three words through a frustrated jaw. "I left her before, remember? This isn't about thinking the grass is greener, or being blindsided by great sex and excitement." He reaches for my face and pulls it toward him so he has my eyes. "I'm not delusional, Rey. I'm head over heels in love with you and I don't care what people think if they find out, but I'll do my very best to make sure that they don't. I just need to keep you from it."

Ben drops a light kiss on the edge of my mouth. I welcome it wholeheartedly. Whether he realizes it or not, these words give me so much comfort, they tell me he means exactly what he says.

"I have but one shot on this earth. One life. I can't see my days through to the end with someone who I'm not supposed to be. I just wish I'd met you fifteen years ago. But I didn't and I can't dwell on that." 

His eyes cloud over as his thumb swipes across my bottom lip, his gaze following its journey. God, I am so in love with this man, so in love. Why can't we just be together now and forget Gwen? Wouldn't that just be easier for everyone? I know it would be for me, that's for damn sure!

"I just have to be thankful that you did eventually show up." He slowly returns his eyes to mine, and I feel my bottom lip tremble under his thumb. "It's you and me against the world, baby. Just don't give up on me, do you hear me?"

My face twists with sadness, my throat closing up on me, and I roll over, putting myself on his chest and burying my face in his neck, needing closeness, needing comfort...needing Ben. "I love you, Ben Solo." My voice shakes with so many different emotions, and my body presses into his as far as I can get it. "I promise I'll hold your hand through this if you hold mine."

"I'll never let go, Rey. Not for anything."


	22. Chapter 22

I look over my shoulder when I hear Ben's footsteps padding into the kitchen, finding him with his phone in his hand, spinning it slowly, thoughtfully. I dip a spoon in my freshly made cup of coffee and watch as he makes his way over to me. He's pulled his boxers on, but the sight I'd usually be rapt by is being overshadowed by the blankness of his facial expression.

"Ben, are you okay?" I ask, slowing my stirring. 

"It's Gwen's father," he says, holding up his phone. "I should be at his birthday celebrations beside my wife." He slowly smiles, but you can tell it's strained. "God forbid anyone notices my absence and surmises what that might actually mean."

Placing my spoon on the drainer, I take my coffee and turn toward him. "I understand if you have to go..." I start, swallowing down the strength that I need to say the words that I really don't want to say. "Then...."

It's no good for me to even try to finish out the rest of the sentence, because deep down I know the truth. I can't tell him to go. I don't want him to go. And he seems to be thinking along the same lines as me.

"But I don't want to go," he says softly.

My smile is relieved but sad. "Okay, so then don't," I reply, not really sure of what else to say.

I don't feel any sense of triumph that he's openly choosing not to go. This isn't a trivial _he picked me over her_ situation because even though he's chosen to stay behind with me, that ring on his finger still indicates that he's married. He still belongs....to....her. It takes every ounce of strength within me not to start crying right then and there.

"I don't want to make assumptions, but I was rather hoping we could do something." Ben gives me hopeful eyes. 

"Like what?" I ask. We hardly have the luxury of freedom to go wherever we please and do whatever we like at the moment.

"Like....just be together." He shrugs, almost embarrassed. "Like a real couple should be: watch trashy television all day and eat junk food, be lazy."

I smile. I don't need to venture into public. Not when I can hide in this house with Ben and smother him all day long. "I really like that idea."

"You do?" He smiles, too bright and beautifully, and the knowledge that such a simple thing can make him so elated warms my soul-deep to the core. As if there was any way to fall in love with this man more, he proves me wrong every time. 

"I need to pop to the shop," I tell him, swilling my mug in the sink. "I need to get some milk." 

"And plenty of junk food," he pipes up, his excitement growing. "Get some of those strawberry sweets. You know, the big ones: Giant Strawbs. Lots and lots of them! And how about I cook something while I'm at it?" 

"You're going to cook for me?" I ask, loving the sound of that. A man's never cooked for me before. Not ever, and I love that Ben will be the first. 

"Yes." Ben heads for the drawers and starts pulling them open one by one. "I'll write you a list first. Where do you keep your pens and paper?"

"Here." I reach to the shelf and pull down a pad, then go through my bag to find him a pen. I hand them to him and he takes a seat, starting to write. I look over his shoulder, peeking down at his list.

His rather _long_ list. Beef stock? Corn flour? Crème fraiche? He's cooking for me, and he's cooking from scratch? 

"Um....sherbet dip?" I ask, frowning. 

"Yes." He looks up at me. "You know the little pouches of sherbet that come with a strawberry lollypop inside? You lick and dip and when the lollypop has gone, you lick your finger and shove it in to scoop out the sherbet."

Oh my God, he's so adorable. "Lick your finger and shove it in? Will that be our dessert?"

His eyes try to narrow, but they're glimmering too much. "Not exactly. I have something else in mind for our....dessert."

He then rips his list off off the pad and hands it to me. I take the paper and lean down, offering him my lips. "And what do I get in return from delivering all of this sweet stuff, Mr. Solo?"

Placing his lips on one, he grins that All-American boyish grin that I love so much. "I'm cooking you a homemade dinner, woman. What more could you possibly want?" 

"I'm sure that I can think of something." 

His grin widens. "How about a sleepover?"

I recoil, a little surprised. "A sleepover?"

"She's staying at her parent's place tonight according to her dad's. She's tired after that long journey." 

To fall asleep with him and to wake up with him? I push my lips to his hard, intending for it to be a forceful peck, but Ben soon turns it into so much more, pulling me down onto his lap and coaxing my mouth open with a few nudges of his tongue against my lips. I open up to him and lose myself in a few minutes of his mouth's attention. 

His groin flexes upward into my bum, making his hard-on known to me. "You'd had better go now before I take you back to the bedroom for some more affection."

He says it like that's a problem. I hold on tighter to him, my special way of telling him that I'm totally cool with that idea.

"Come on, Rey." He taps my bum and tries to usher me from his lap, ignoring my grumbles of protest. 

"How about dessert later, dinner later?" I try, pushing my chest into his and nibbling at his ear, making a point to breathe heavily into it. I'm all worked up as a result of that smoldering kiss. I want him to fuck me and he needs to take full responsibility for the condition that he currently has me in.

He laughs, forcing me to my feet. "Can I use your shower while you're gone?"

"Sure," I mutter moodily, making my way to bedroom to throw on some clothes. 

"You're walking funny," he calls back at me, amused.

I ignore him and try to shrink the need that's wedged itself between my thighs....making me walk like my knickers are up the crack of my ass. We could be fucking right now, and he goes and does _this_ to me. The fucking nerve that man's got, I swear!

He'd have never let me do this if it had been him who was asking? I decide right then and there as I slip on my clothes that he owes me a full whole day of passionate, mind-blowing sex....big time.

After collecting everything on Ben's shopping list, I make my way to the checkout. I quickly snatch some magazines from the nearby stand and toss them onto the conveyor belt, as well as a chocolate bar, then head to the other end and start packing as the cashier rings it all through.

After paying, I pull out a magazine, hang the bag from the crook of my arm, and start wandering home. I flick through the pages as I chew my chocolate, not looking where I'm even going.

The pages of the weekly gossip mag hold my attention, leaving everyone else to sidestep around me. "REY!" 

I look up and see Rose jogging across the road, looking all sweaty in her running hear, her long shiny black hair back in a ponytail, and a Frappucinno in her left hand. I shove the magazine into my bag and chew rapidly as she makes it to me.

"What's with the sports getup?" I ask.

"Wine. That's what. I either need to stop drinking it or try to counteract it. I must have gained at least eight pounds while me and Finn were split up." She reached forward and pulls the side of my bag open a little. "Been doing some shopping?"

"Just some milk."

"Milk and sweets?"

"Sue me, I'm having a bumming day."

"I thought you were at your mum and dad's today."

"Work took over." I hope I look better than I feel when I lie, because I feel like a million bags of shite right now. "I have an exhibition next weekend in Liverpool." Let's just get that in while I can. "Lots of prep." 

"Oh well." She sounds as interested as I hoped she would: not interested at all. "Hey, come on, give me all the juicy details." She starts jogging on the spot, grinning. "Are his thighs still as impressive as you remember?"

I straighten my lips and shake my head. "He's nice, don't get me wrong, but---"

"Ugh," she groans, dropping her head back in despair. "You're one hard woman to please, Rey Kenobi."

My mouth forms a tight smile. That's not true at all. I just want Ben Solo, is all. "So how's things with Finn going?"

Her eyes sparkle, and I relish in the sight. I just hope the twat doesn't fuck up his chances a second time around. "He's being so attentive and so romantic. I know you guys are unsure, but I can tell he's trying really hard this time."

"Well, then I'm happy for you."

"I know you are." She kisses my cheek and starts toward the road. "Lunch tomorrow? Jannah's up for it."

"Sure."

"I'll call you in the morning!" Rose disappears around the corner, and I carry on my way home, ignoring the guilt rising within me after lying to my best mate.....again. 

* * *

Ben's waiting for me in the hallway when I walk through the front door, freshly showered and looking edible. His black hair is wet and floppy, his scruff bordering....well, scruffy, and he's back in his boxers.

His eyes light up when he sees me, but instead of seizing me and saying hello, he swipes the bag from my hand and virtually shoves his head in, his big body on the verge of shaking with excitement. "What do I have to do to get a hello like that?" I ask, watching as he riffles through the bag.

He halts mid-rummage and looks up at me with a cute smile. If he didn't look so adorable, I'd still have an indignant look on my face, but instead I'm smiling, too.

"Is is sad that I can't even think of anything I'd rather do that veg out and eat crap with you?"

"That sounds so poetic," I laugh, kicking off my flip-flops.

He switches the bag to one hand before circling me and picking me up from behind with an arm curled around my waist. He carries me into the lounge. Or what was my lounge? Now it looks like it's been set up for a glorified slumber party. 

"I got everything ready while you were out," Ben says, heading for the kitchen. "I'll cook us dinner later. After we've watched a film." 

"Okay." I agree, looking around. 

He's dragged in all the pillows from my bedroom, along with the duvet, and pulled the throw and cushions from the couch. My king-size bedcover is spread out across the floor, the pillows propped up against the sofa and the cushions haphazardly spread around the sides. He's even drawn the curtains, making the room dusky and cozy, and turned the TV on, although the screen is paused.

"Top Gun?" I ask, bemused.

"Shit, yeah." Ben comes back in from the kitchen with his Giant Strawbs, takes my hand, and pulls me onto the covers. "Best film ever made."

He starts to strip me until he has me down to my knickers. He wants jet planes and sweets. I can do no more than let him do his thing and arrange me where he wants me, smiling the whole time. "So, tell me American boy, who did you want to be growing up?"

"Iceman," he answers immediately, not needing an elaboration on the question and not sensing the mockery in my tone. "Are you good?"

He sits back on his haunches and looks at me propped up cozy on the cushions in nothing else but my baby-blue lacked knickers. "I'm good."

"Good." He grabs for the remote, settles down beside me and starts shoving jelly strawberries into his mouth. 

I just shake my head on a smile as I lift his arm and crawl into his side, getting snuggly. I'm not even going to deny it, this is some seriously enjoyable stuff. I watch Top Gun for the first time in twenty years, but my head's not totally in it.

I'm listening to Ben munch, feeling his chest compress and decompress, and just generally relishing in our closeness. It's a novelty to just....be. Every so often, half a jelly strawberry blocks my view of the screen, and I open and let Ben slip it into my mouth until I'm stuffed and have to push his hand away.

"I won't eat whatever you're going to cook me." My eyes become heavy, my body naturally molds into his side, until the last thing I remember is Maverick and Goose rocking out to "Great Balls of Fire."

I've never felt so serene and comfortable. I'm somewhere between sleep and consciousness. Ben's chest warm under my cheek, my leg sprawled across his thighs, my palm on his pec. His arm is curled around my waist, holding me to him, his chin resting on top of my head. 

In my sleepy wonderland, I note the film must have finished, because there's silence except for Ben's light breathing. Burrowing into his body some more, I sigh happily into my darkness, feeling him respond to my move, kissing the top of my head in his sleep. Then I'm drifting off back to sleep again. The sharp jerk of his body beneath mine wakes me, then the soft sound of my name has my lids flickering and slowly peeling open.

"Rey," Ben says again. 

I turn my face up to his, but he's not looking at me. He's looking across the room, and when I slowly crane my neck to find out what has his attention, all the warmth I'm feeling quickly turns into ice.

I push myself away from his body abruptly, ignoring my waking muscles that are screaming their protest, pulling painfully. There's no time for me to consider giving them the slow moves they need, because though they're not fully awake, my mind is.

And so are my eyes, which are open wide and staring at both Rose and Poe, who are standing at the entrance to my lounge. Oh shit, is the only two words that seem to come to mind as I stare into the eyes of my two best friends. Oh shit, doesn't even really come close at this point. 

I'm in some deep, _deep_ shit right now. I'm _so_ fucked. I clam up, looking away, ashamed. The sheer disappointment on their faces is more than I can bear and only a smidgen of what expect is to come next. Their silence alone is excruciating. 

Ben shifts next to me and I look up at him. His face is serious, but I can see he's desperately trying to feed me some reassurance. It's all in vain.

"Do you want me to go?" he asks quietly, instantly giving me something else to make my mind spin about.

I don't know. Do I really want him to leave? Will Ben serve as support, or will he only add fuel to the situation? My face must tell him that I'm in a muddle over how best to approach this, because he then reaches for my hand and squeezes it tightly.

"Fine. I'll stay." He makes the decision for me, and, with my own head not helping me out, I go with his instinct and nod a little.

"No. You can leave," Poe butts in. I look across and find my oldest friend looking the most serious that I've ever seen him.

"I'll be staying," Ben counters smoothly and firmly, getting to his feet, showing no shyness at being virtually naked. I follow his lead, gathering the covers and pulling them in before standing and facing my friends.

The look of disdain on Poe's face is fierce. "How about I don't even give you the option, pal?" 

"How about you do and this doesn't get nasty, huh?" Ben retorts, them muscles in his back tensing up dangerously. 

"All right, all right, that's enough! Poe, drop it!" Rose interjects, holding both her hands up, looking just as equally pissed off as the two men in the room. She closes her eyes and gathers strength. "What the hell is going on here, Rey?"

"She's fucking a married man, that's what's going on!" Poe spits nastily. "Why don't you run along back to your wife? Tell her what you've been up to lately? Or maybe I should go tell and tell herself myself."

Ben lunges forward threatening, leaving me no choice but to jump in his path before they start scrapping in my lounge. "Ben! Poe! Stop!" I shout, placing a hand on Ben's chest firmly. "I think it's best you go, Ben." I look up at him, and immediately starts shaking his head. 

"No, Rey." He looks adamant. "Not so these two can slam you and make you start questioning what you're doing."

"That's exactly what we're going to do, buddy!" Poe yells. "Make her see some fucking sense!" 

"Just stop it!" I yell, turning to face my oldest friend. "I _know_ what I'm doing!"

"You do?" Rose pipes up. "Are you sure about that, Rey, because I'm pretty sure that must have lost your fucking mind, Rey. What has he promised you? Let me guess, he's going to leave her?" She laughs coldly. "Yes, they all say that in the beginning, but when it comes to the crunch, they're all ballless! You're a bit of fun. Something new and exciting, different. Don't you see that?"

"It's nothing like that," I yell, starting to lose my shit. Her experience, albeit at the complete opposite end of the spectrum, cannot be used as a comparison. "And if all you two are going to do is stand there and make judgements, you can leave now. You know nothing about this, and you don't look like you're in the mood to listen, so get out!"

Both of my friends recoil, shocked, and Ben's hand rests on my shoulder to calm me. It won't work. I'm infuriated that they think they have our situation nailed. They don't.

I'm not just fucking him. I back into Ben's front, showing where my alliance lies, my face fixed and determined. 

* * *

"Calm down, Rey," Ben says quietly from behind, turning me to face him. He looks down at me with a soft smile, reaching up to my eyes and wiping under each tenderly. "This is just part of the process. One of the many challenges we need to face head on."

He's talking to me like there's no one else in the room, and it's having the effect he's wanting. Under his soft order, I swallow down my frustration and pull myself together.

"Don't drive your friends away. You need them." He dips and pushes his lips to my forehead, and though I now can't see Ben's face, I know he'll have a trained eye on my friends. "I'm going to get dressed."

He heads for my bedroom, slowing when he reaches the door, needing Poe to move so he can pass through it. It takes my friend a few seconds to find the courtesy, but he eventually shifts to the side, allowing Ben to pass, even if it's on a curled lip. I see Rise blow out a breath as Ben disappears and Poe uncoils a little.

Then they both look at me again, but before I let their condemnation beat me down i turn and scoop up my T-shirt from the floor. "You can put the kettle on if you want to stay. I need to get dressed."

"I'll put the kettle on," Rose sighs, taking Poe's arm and pushing him through to the kitchen, leaving me alone. I spend the next few minutes it takes me to dress trying to dampen down my simmering resentment.

I fail. But I need to face this head on. No more hiding. When I join them in the kitchen, I find Rose is drinking wine and Poe has a beer in his hand. Great, I've pushed them to drink.

"You know, I didn't give you a key so that you could infiltrate my privacy whenever you felt like it," I say as I get my own glass down from the cupboard and pour myself some wine. I've pushed myself to drink, too.

Neither of them have anything to say to that, but I'm not kidding myself that the conversation ends here. 

"I had a training session with Finn this afternoon," Poe explains. "And he was telling me that he bumped into Tom." His head cocks to one side, his eyebrows rise. "And Tom mentioned some bloke breaking down your apartment door."

"Honestly, what the hell are you thinking, Rey?" Rose jumps in, pointing her wineglass towards the door, as if there could be any confusion about what she's talking about. "I knew you were hiding something." 

"Is it any wonder?" I ask. "Why would I confide in you when I knew you would be like this? I don't expect either of you to understand."

"What's to understand?" Poe pipes up, dropping into a chair. "All this time you've been lying to us. You're going where no one should go."

"Do you think that I don't know that? Do you think I walked into this with my eyes closed?"

"You must have." Poe laughs bitterly. 

"This isn't a game," I shout. "He's not a trophy to be won, Rose! I fucking love him!" I shock myself with the decibel level of my voice, and Rose and Poe's eyes bug. 

But I don't give either of them an opportunity to come back at me with their thoughts. Not until the know the deal. 

"I've torn myself to shreds repeatedly about this!" I yell. "I've beaten myself up and constantly dreaded the consequences, but none of it has made me lose sight of how I feel about him. I can't pretend that I don't feel this way. I can't turn my back on it because I'm scared to death I'll lose him."

My voice is starting to quiver, but I soldier on, determined to try and make them see things from my perspective. 

"He's worth the shit that I know I'm going to go through, because I love him. So much it fucking hurts right here!" I thump my chest. "It frightens me, but the thought of not having him, of coming out of this mess without him, fucking terrifies me." I finish off my speech with a long glug of wine, shaking as I bring the glass down to the worktop. "Look. I'm not asking you to give me your blessing, I'm just asking you not to assume you know the deal, because you don't."

"But, he's not yours to take, Rey," Rose says quietly. "Don't go there, please."

"It's too late." I drop my eyes to the floor. "And I'm not taking him. He's been coming to me willingly."

"Do you really think that his wife will see it like that, Rey?" Poe asks. "And anyone else?"

"No." I admit. "But the one thing I'm having to come to terms with that I can't control how people will see me. I've been through all the labels that I'll have slapped on me. Homewrecker, slut, whore, selfish-bitch. But none of them hurt as much as the thought of being without Ben. He's miserable in his marriage. That mark in his face is because of her! She did that to him!"

There's a brief silence and both of them look at me, stunned. "Oh, shit," Rose sighs, discarding her wineglass, shaking her head.

She might no understand, but she comprehends how I feel about Ben. Coming over to me, she wraps an arm around my shoulders, giving me half a cuddle. "What on earth have you gotten yourself into you, Rey?"

"Love," I reply simply, because that little four-letter word is the only explanation for me venturing down this painful road. 

The moment Ben's eyes met mine in that bar that night, our hearts began to slowly entwine, and now they're entangled so tightly that I have no choice but to battle forward and hope we can't be ripped apart, because if Ben leaves me, he will take part of my heart with him. 

I'll be destroyed. The growing lump in my throat expands and I break down in Rose's arms. I hear Poe curse, and I hear a soft sob come from Rose, too. I cry into her shoulder quietly, grateful for the comfort she's been forced into giving me, until she pulls away and holds me by my shoulders.

Her eyes are glassy with tears as she wipes mine, her face sad. "You stupid, stupid girl," she says tenderly, her voice broken with emotion. "Part of me is so happy that you've found a man you're so in love with, and then the other part of me is full of dread for you."

I swallow on a nod of understanding, feeling exactly the same. Poe audibly sighs and comes over, wrapping his big arms around both of us. "Brain is officially pink," he mutters, kissing each of our heads in turn. "For fuck's sake!"

A mild cough interrupts us, and our little crowd breaks up. "I didn't want to interrupt," Ben says.

"You'd better be there for her," Poe warns harshly. 

Ben doesn't retaliate, and he doesn't look insulted that Poe's more or less threatening him. I hold back from telling my friends that I need to be there for him, too. "I will be," Ben answers, his voice not wavering at all.

"And if you break her heart, I swear to God, I'll kill you."

"There'll be no need for any of that," Ben counters coolly, turning his calm brown eyes onto me. "If I hurt her, I'll kill myself before you can get to me."

I hear Poe's small hitch of surprised breath, and I bite my lip as silence falls. There's nothing left to be said. Rose nudges Poe from his starting deadlock with Ben, pulling him out of the kitchen.

"I'll call you in the morning," Rose says, so obviously torn by today's revelations.

Ben moves from their path and nods respectfully as they pass, and once the front door closes, he turns to me, his hands deep in his trouser pockets, his face grave. It's all becoming so real now for us. "Are you okay?"

I nod, but my emotions don't agree with me and I crumple once again, unable to process what just happened. Ben crosses the room into a few easy strides and pulls me in for a much needed cuddle, holding me tightly, hushing me and kissing my hair.

"We'll be okay," he says, trying to appease me. "I promise."

I hang onto his words like they are all I have, praying that he is right while physically hanging onto him, too. I feel drained of energy already.

My lack of fight doesn't sit well. My strength is going to be tested to their limit. I can only hope that it doesn't break me in the end. Breathing in deeply, Ben gives me one last squeeze before cradling me in his arms and carrying me to my bedroom.

He lays me down on the bed, then disappears momentarily to collect all of the pillows and the duvet from the lounge. Once he's put a pillow under my head and stripped both of us down, he crawls in, forcing me onto my side, and covers us up. The length of his body curls around mine perfectly.

"Every single time I leave you, it hurts, Rey. I'm climbing the walls, getting myself all worked up because I don't know how long it will be before I can be with you again. I can't go on like this."

He kisses the back of my head, pulling me closer. We're locked together. Sheltered from the outside world. Protected from what is to come.

"No matter what happens, what she doesn't to me or to herself," he whispers softly in my ear. "I'm leaving her tomorrow." 


End file.
